Gods and Thieves
by StaryStaryNight
Summary: Daughter of Hades has a throne to claim. good thing she had a pirate crew to walk with her through the gates of hell. rated M for strong language, themes and steamy business in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1- Long live the Queen

**Chapter 1- Long live the Queen**

 _"You are just like your mother aren't you?"_

I assume that somewhere is this world there are fathers who say that to their daughters in fondness and love. I assume that there are some daughters who take those works as a compliment. when my father says these words to me they are as far from a compliment as one can get.

I am told I look like her, I am told that my hair, my face, my nose, are all hers. My father's golden eyes looking at him day in day out from the face of the woman who abandoned him.

He must have loved her, once. She told him she named me after the one place where she was ever truly happy. With him. In the earth.

My name is Semele. My father is Hades. My mother is Persephone. We don't talk about her.

I don't remember my mother. Apparently when all the villains were banished to the isle both she and my father were stripped of any godly power and left for dead along with the others. It took her all of three months after I was born to pray to her mother and beg her for salvation from this a little girl I wanted to believe she thought about taking me along but couldn't, that one day she may be back for us, but I don't believe such silly notions anymore.I try not to blame her either- my grandmother, Demeter the goddess of fertility and the harvest, could provide her with a get out of jail card and was only too happy to provide it. apparently being just another broken creature on the isle doesn't hold as much appeal as being queen of the underworld. The one place she was happy. The place she named me after.

I don't answer my dad anymore as he mutters that old insult at me. Once I used to. Everything from-

" _Nah dad, I won't let you keep me here because of a fucking pomegranate!"_

To some really hurtful stuff like

" _Maybe if you bothered killing a baby yourself mom wouldn't have left"_

These comments and retorts got me nothing but a scolding or a beating. These arguments were cruel and ugly and neither of us deserved them. I didn't deserve it because I can't even remember her,and he didn't deserve it because for all his faults he actually did his best to be a good father when he could.  
When he was still strong he taught me how to wield magic, how to cast spells and understand magic until it could one day be better nature,and how to talk to the dead, how to deal with spirits and demons. There is no magic on the isle but my father insisted that I must still know it's working in and out so that one day " _it won't catch you with your pants down and you wonder why the hell is it nothing like you expect. Magic is messy, if you don't tell it where to go or have a good enough spell it will take you with it and you won't like where you end up."  
_ My father tried to teach me to hold a sword but I was a skinny thing as a child and could not hold the damn thing firmly. So he gave up and taught me how to use daggers instead. How to hide them and draw them as quickly and naturally and breathing..

But the most important lesson he taught me= was how to not show weakness. He taught that by punishing it when it showed, not to cry, not to be caught in a lie, to always have the upper hand. He taught me to suspect the worse and be ready for it when it strikes, to not trust anyone with my life or powers and be ready for when they try and betray me. And every time I broke he would straighten me up forcefully, band up my wounds and say " _I won't always be here to fix you. You have to be stronger than this"_

So I was. I forced myself to me. I didn't understand what he meant by not always be here… he was a god. Stripped of his powers or not he was still a god. What could kill a god?

Turns out the answer was in the question.

I look at him now and I can hardly see a god in him anymore. What could kill a god? Take away his power, take away his believers, remove him from everything that was his domain. That's how you kill a god. Consider all of this and it's a downright miracle he made it this far.

The blue flames are sickly and yellow, the fire in his eyes is nearly gone. It won't be long now.

The door to our apartment clicks shut as the doctor leaves. He is a lanky, tall and dark man and he carries with him his bag of voodoo and nightmares. He is not a kind man, none of them are, but as his eyes meet mine he everts them immediately.

"So?" is all I can say

"I'll be back later tonight" he says. His deep voice barely more than a whisper.

"So he will be alright?"

"You should go be with him" he suggests "I will be as quick as I can"

With those words he all but runs down the stairs and back to his shop. I stand there, leaning against the decaying wall and trying to will him to come back. To explain. To not leave me alone. I want to run and get someone. Anyone. Aunt ursula, my cousin. My friends. Anyone. But I know it would do no good. I take a deep breath and walk back inside.

Our apartment is small, a kitchenette, my father's room that is also his study. When we first moved here he hanged some sheets and made a room out of one of the corners, when I grew out of my crib we hanger a hammock and I decorated the sheets with pictures of the underworld and the kingdom I have never seen.

"Semele" I hear his weak voice calling me from the other room

"What did Faciliar say dad?" I take the walk across the small room to his bed and sit beside him. I feel like I am supposed to reach to hold his hand now but I am not quite sure how to go about it. We were never a very touchy family.

He looks at me but I am not sure he actually sees me.

"It's cold" he says, barely bore that a croak

"I'll get you another blanket" I say and rush of to get one, I find an old ragged thing and pile it atop the other two he is already covered with "better?" I ask.

"No" he says and I can't help but smile. He never sugarcoats anything. Even now.

"Dad what did Faciliar say?" I try again

"That he will be back later with a potion to make it hurt less" he says.

"Is there nothing else he can do? I could try fetch aunt ursula maybe she could-"

"Don't bother" he interrupts me "I would like to sleep it off actually. Sounds nicer than actually being here"

We sit in silence for another few minutes. I shiver with a chill that I know is not caused by the cold. I wanna reach out to him, hold him but it's as if my hands forgot how.

"Dad I am scared"

"Of what?" he muses

"I don't know. Of being alone" I say. Tears sting in my eyes and I dig my fingernails hard into my palm to try and stop them. Focus of the pain. On this pain. Of the pain I can handle. Focus.

"We were always alone" he says "we don't know how else to be. You will be fine" finally he adds with a toothy grin "you will finally have your own room"

I try to force a dry laugh but it escapes out of me as a sob. I see him frown and I wish I could take it back.

"Don't do that" he says "don't… what did I always tell you"

"I'm sorry" I sob, now unable to stop my tears, they stream down my face and fall of his cold hands and the blankets and the whole room becomes nothing but a blurry mess as I try to focus harder on the pain in my palm. On the light. On anything but him.

"Semele" he draws my attention at once as his icy palm holds my warm one "there is nothing to cry about"

"You are dying" I sob as I hold tighter to his hand with both of mine

"I am death" he says "I am going home"

We stay like this for another hour as he runs me through all the things that need to be taken care of, trivial stuff like rent from his tenants down the other side of the isle, to important stuff like how I should "send him off"

When doctor Facilier returns he is already gone.

After an entire day of funeral I am thoroughly sick of people saying that they are sorry for my loss.

I am tired of people walking up to me to shake my hands, and I am tired to people lying to me that they are here if I need anything.

I sit on the shore by the funeral pyre long after everyone else of his friends and relatives leave..By now it's just a bunch of red coals even then I don't move. I am not sure where to go. I sit on the beach and stare and the file of embers and ash that was my father.

"Is this seat taken?"

I look up and see a familiar face framed my sapphire and emerald braids. My cousin is smiling at me a smile that is true and warm and, unlike so many others today, completely non condescending. Even better, she has a bottle of rum with her.

"All yours" I say and she sits beside me on the cold sand.

"A bit dramatic with the whole pyre thing don't you think?" she muses as she opens the cork of the bottle with here teeth.

"It's what he wanted. Had to run around the entire isle to find two silver coins, he was very specific about that one point"

"Where did you find them?" ahs asks as the finishes a heart gulp and hands me the bottle

"Lucas Rathcliff.. I had to break his wrist for them" I say as I accept the bottle and take an equally long sip. Sweet smoky taste greets me and is quickly followed by the feeling like liquid fire down my throats. It's exactly what I needed.

"Nice" uma laughs

We sit in silence for another few moments, nothing but the crackling of the final embers of the pyre and the soft hissing of the waves.

"What will you do now?" she asks

"Don't know" I admit "I've been taking care of him for almost a year now, I am not sure what to do next. Do I still have a room in the gang?"

"Always" she says "but this is not what I meant"

"Then what did you mean?" I ask

"Your mother"

This comment feels as though uma reached into my chest and dug her nails into my heart. Is brings out a feeling that is pained and angry and ugly. She probably sees is because the next thing she says is

"Don't you wanna confront her?"

"Of course I do!" I yell "but it's not exactly like I can stroll of the isle and go to a temple can I?!"

"Not yet" she says

"Wha-"

"Look, I am not holding against you the you missed all that happened with to auradon brats" she says

"If you haven't noticed, I was a bit busy" I spit

"I know" she raises her palms up, clearly not looking for a fight

"Then?" I invite her to continue

"This prison is not as perfect as it seems" she says, her eyes gleaming with wicked delight as she snatches the bottle back "every time this barrier comes down there are more ways off the island that just the bridge, especially if you are quick enough"

"An able to breath underwater" I correct her, she gives me a grin before taking a long gulp of the rum "look, cus, I heard of what you did in the cotillion. It was great but I don't think it would work again"

"They are bringing more VK's over there, Dizzy Tremain was the first but there would be others. We can sneak a small team over when they do and cause some real havoc they would never forget"

"A small team" I say

"It's all we will need. Me, Gill, Harry, a few fine others, and you"

"Why would it work any different than the cotillion" I challenge her. I can see through her eyes that her fantasies of vengeance and justice for her crew are carrying her away. She is drifting away from me and I want to pull her back before it's too late.

"Because this time" she purrs "we have the queen of the dead"

Her words hit me hard, I look to the pyre, almost burned out and the consequences of my father's death that I didn't even consider.

"The king is dead" she says as she offers me back the rum.

I smile devilishly, and take it from her, I take it to my mouth and drink heartily, liquid courage setting my insides aflame.

"Long live the queen"

Author's note:

Semele is ancients Greek for "earth" or "under the earth". since in Greek mythology the underworld was consider to exist quite literally under the world Semele's name "under the earth" could also mean "underworld" which in Greek mythology simply called Hades as well.

this is my first fanfic in english and I've been writing it rather frantically for a few days now. I am aware that there may be some spelling or typing mistakes- unfortunately english is not my first language and I don't have a Beta reader for this.

I hope you enjoyed it.


	2. Chapter 2- hook punch

_Authors note:_

 _I am so excited to see that people are liking this story, i was super worried about the whole killing hades on the first chapter thing... it was suppouse to be a chill little fanfic but then the plot bunny demanded parent sacrifice and now what do you know-grief._

 _Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this new chapter and please let me know your thought!_

 **Chapter 2- a Hook Punch**

The pub is as filthy and disgusting as it was the last time I was there. Ursula's fish and chips shop smells of frying oil, alcohol, sweat and the ocean. It smells like home.

I didn't plan on coming here tonight. We sat on the beach a little while longer, ma and me, and passed the rum back and forth between us until the bottle ran dry, it warms me up as the night grows colder and Uma by my side grows drunker and happier.

The family relation between us is weird- what with her mother being my uncle's daughter (or so I'm told). We weren't always so close, and the bond between us was once nothing but blood- back when she was a tiny little thing and the entire damn isle called her shrimpy after Mal's name for her stuck. I was weak back then and followed along with the others, when my father found out he almost threw me out the window of our apartment. We screamed at each other and eventually he made it crystal clear that either I show his niece and her daughter the proper respect for family or I better get better at stealing food.

At first I forced myself to be nicer as I sat by her at lunch and shared my steals with her. Later on when harry and gill joined the gang I found, slowly, that I didn't care what Mal thought of me anymore, and that with the rest of them I could even stand up to her if I had to. over the years I found that Uma was .in fact, an incredible leader, worshiped by her crew and feared by her enemies. everything this girl is now she made herself with her own hands and I can't help but admire that- admire her. Me and her we are more than best friends, we are family- by blood and by choice.

She must sense me staring at her because she perks up an eyebrow and asks "what do you wanna do next?"

I look to the pyre and see that now it's nothing but ashes. No reason to stay here when even dad has left. I pick up the ashen silver coins and toss them as far as I could into the ocean. They bounce twice and then they are gone forever in the deep.

"Got any more where that came from?" I ask as I lift the now empty bottle.

Her grin grows as wide as a shark's.

As we make our way to ursula's fish and chips shop the entire isle can hear us. We bellow sea shanties and support each other as we walk in drunken lines and back alleyways.

"Look what I found!" she exclaims as she kicks in the door of her mother's bar

All the yes in the room are upon us now. They were chattering and yelling before, I spot an arm wrestling match stopped dead on a far off table at her words. Her crew. My old gang. They are all here.

"Sem!" Gill runs forward and I am picked up as though I weigh nothing. He spins me around and puts me back down but the booze in my head causes the room to keep spinning "your's back!" he yells

"I am" I agree and use his broad arm for support as I will myself to pull it together. Alcohol or no alcohol I should show weakness right now. I used to have a good rank in this room, and if I want it back I better look like I deserve it. I walk down and sit at the table Gill rose from, Uma wonders off as soon as she sees me settled in.

"Semele" one of the younger girls, Lorry, a tall thing with blonde bushy hair draws my attention to her "I didn't get to say anything at the funeral, I'm so-"

"Don't" I cut her off, my voice sharp, "don't say you are sorry for my loss, don't say you are here for me… please just… just be normal" I stare her down and await her response. She simply gulps and nods firmly. I can only hope that it would be the last time I would have to make this statement.

I don't want to talk or even think about my father. I don't want to think about the empty house waiting for me a few blocks from there, I don't want to think of the damn funeral and the fact that I smell like woodsmoke is not helping.

So I force myself to socialise.  
I hear all the stories I missed in the past year I was almost never around, the year I was running around trying to gather what little scraps of magic the isle had to offer to sustain my father. I kick myself mentally again to stop myself thinking about it. About him. Instead I listen to the others tell me who slept with who, who owes who a beating, who did good in the pup-king battle the other week. The stories, so it turns out, are endless, and gill and the others are keen to fill me in on every rotten piece of gossip I missed with Uma throwing nasty remarks and fleshing out the stories where she feels her crew doesn't do them justice.

An hour later I am not as drunk as I wanted to be but more distracted than I hoped I would be, there are empty chip wrappers on the table and empty glasses of who knows what. The room feels cozy and homely and I can hardly sense the smell. I feel the warmth I missed so much

And then he simply has to suck it all out again.

Harry Hook doesn't walk. He never walks. He stralls, he stalks, he galivants. He never walks in a room the same way a tiger would not simply walk in a room. And as the door closes behind him I hear the chatter in the room continued undisturbed but I register none of it.

I find myself following him with my gaze, my thoughts darting to things I didn't think of for the longest time. For a year.  
I remember the way his lips feel against my neck, and I remember the sweet way he lies without so much as a muscle twitching in his face. I remember the sinful way those hips can move and the brutal way this fist can swing. I wonder how long did he carry the bruises I gave him the last time we met. I wonder if he carried them like me for two weeks.

Unlikely. I am as white as a ghost and bruise as easy as ink stains paper. His skin in scared by many a brutal fights but he is sun kissed and strong and simple bruises wash off him as easy as they came.

"Y'got a problem princess?" he asks in heavy accented voice. I was staring. He noticed.

Now I assume that there are certain places in the world in which calling a girl princess is a good thing. It suggests poise, regality, beauty. I assume that on Auradon for example Harry's words would have been taken as a compliment. But this is not Auradon. This is the Isle of the Lost… and over here calling a girl a princess and definitely- not a compliment.

I suck in a sharp breath through my nose and force myself to look at him with equal venom in my eye.

The blue of the deepest ocean meeting the ember of the deepest pit of hell. Charming.

"None than concern you" I spit back.

"That's good" he says and I hope against all hope that this is the end of it

"Good" I say"

"Y'know" He doesn't let go. So much for the end of it "we missed yer the other week. Ye remember? when there was a call for arms?"

"I was busy" I retort

"Dont matter, a call to arms is a call to arms" he says. He has this mad look in his eyes again. It's a look that speak of violence and promises blood. I sit as straight as a knife blade and stare at him just as sharply.

"Don't recall seeing you in the funeral today" I say, it pains me to think that I know this for certain because I looked for him among the others and couldn't find him.

"miss me?" he purrs "loyalty to yer crew outdoes loyalty by blood. Ye swore that didn't ya?" his voice is a mock of true curiosity as he draws nearer.

I follow him with my gaze as he stalks around the table like a predator playing with his pray.

I refuse to play the part he tries assigning me and stand up to block his stupid stroll. Let's see him play Shere-kahn now.

"Harry, enough" I hear Uma commanding him from behind the bar and for a moment he flinches. He is torn now, between obeying his captain and getting back at me for not being there at the crew's hour of need. I decide to solve the dilemma for him. If we are to work together on Uma's crazy suicide mission this… whatever it is, ends tonight.

All I have to do is stay calm. My father's words ring thought my head and I force my breath to stay steady and my eyes to stay cold. Keep the fire within at bay. Keep all the cards close to your chest.

"No, let Daddy's boy wants a fight he is welcome to it" I say to her, not taking my eyes off of.

"What did you just say?" he warns, teeth bared like an animal

"I heard what you did in the battle" I muse "if loyalty to the crew is more important than loyalty by blood, how come you still have a hook. And how come Jay is still alive"

His eyes widen in rage and he draws nearer to me, his voice is low and deadly "couldn't let ma old man down… he is actually holding it together and all" he snarls.

As Hades's daughter, the whole "keep the fire within at bay" lesson was always more of a 'do as I say not as I do' sort of lesson. My father had a teper to be feared and I learned, unfortunately, from his actions rather than his words. I learned bad temper and violence before I learned how to walk and as I finally register through the haze of alcohol in ,my braid what the hell he just said it's too late.

As my fist makes contact with Harry's nose I realise how far gone my temper is for tonight.

It's a hook punch. Ironically enough


	3. Chapter 3 - Different kind of Drunk

_Authors note:chapter comes with the song: Halestorm- I miss misery._

 _watch?v=YpJAmlnBxoA_

 _enjoy._

 **Chapter 3: a different kind of drunkenness**

It's not a good fight. It's not a pretty one either. It's not efficient or cruel enough to be considered a serious fight yet it's not flashy or stylistic enough to be considered a 'don't mess with me fight' the kind that is meant to show anyone watching what you could do. L can barely call it a fight at all… it's more like a brawl really.

Harry returned my punch with interest, sending a knee to my stomach and a blow to my face. I menage to block the knee with two palms but the punch lands, poorly, on my ear and sends my back with my ears ringing.

People rush to get out of our way and we carry this on with poorly aimed punches and kicks. I realize that he must be drunk as well or else something really wrong has happened to the fighter I remember.

All around us people are yelling and cheering. we move fast, a kick, a block a punch and on we go. A table is cleared instantly as I spy and opening and manage to land a solid kick to his face. I hear him grunt on pain as he is sent reeling backwards as he tries to maintain balance. close but no cigar. he crashes onto the table that the others cleared away and his palm goes to his injured lip.

"Had enough?" I bark at him, trying my best to not let on how out of breath I am, to sound calm and sure of myself. I force myself to smile, to not show how long it's been since I've been in a fight with someone who could go toe to toe with me.

Harry looks back at me and whips a drop of blood from his split lip, it's gonna bruise, I think, but probably not leave any preeminent scars.  
He is smiling, no, he is downright beaming at me as he reaches for a glass that hasn't been knocked over and downs it. he spits some beer and blood to the side, not taking his eyes of the smug smile off me. then, slowly, he reaches to his belt and pulls out his name's sake, his father's hook. The crescent piece of metal is as shining as ever, well taken care of an beloved by it's owner. it's blunt- mostly, the tip would have me hooked and bleeding like a freshly caught trout. With white knuckles around the precious hook's handle to rushes back at me.

well this is just annoying.

I roll out of the way as the brutal weapon flies to where my shoulder was just a moment ago, a part of my tell me that that swing was a little to slow to have real heart behind it but that's not a chance I am willing to take, I use the momentum to reach for my boot and draw out a dagger. when I rise back to my feet I use it to meet his hook when he strikes with it. He still punches and kicks and I realize with relief that he drew the hook more to make a point than anything else. it's a relief, but not a big one as he is still fast and wild in his movement. I try to meet him with similar fire.

We are both sweaty and out of breath and by Chronos this is almost making to wish for a different kind of violent activity involving me and him. This is different kind of drunkenness.

I don't have time to think of the best way to think anymore of the best way to react. the Adrenalin and alcohol and the sheer sinful joy of it have taken over completely. my body dodges and avoids the blows on it's own as though I was a puppet to my own instinct . I dish out blows and kicks and harry returns them with equal frenzy. a part of my brain that might be muscle memory and maybe just plain survival instinct send orders to my legs to move, to jump, to duck and I obey.  
I recognize a full swinging blow of the hook coming towards me and my dagger is there before I have time to move away. I catch the blow mere inches from my face and the sheer force of it sends vibrations through it to my entire arm. I realize with a jolt of fear that he is not holding back anymore.  
I don't have time to consider the best way to approach this new predicament because suddenly he lands a kick, heel first, right into my stomach.  
moves like this can end a fight as quickly as it began. I can try to stay standing but I decide to gain some distance from him instead- and so I let go of my balance. I am shot back with a force that knocks the air out of me, and brings out a pathetic whimper as I fly and crash on the floor, it hurts like a bitch but at least I am away from Harry.

Around us the cheering and shouting goes on, I think I can hear Uma yelling something as well but I can't make any of it. The only thing in the room, in the world, is this sadistic dance I found myself in.

I have to end it quick or it will drag to long, already the fight is close to that dangerous zone in which the outcome would be decided by stamina- and I don't like my chances there. I rely on speed and technique when I fight, get in quick get out faster, while harry relays on brutality and his ability to wear down his opponent's resolve to dust. if this goes on he wins . and it's simply not an option.  
I grab the other knife from my other boot and hold them both before me, ready to meet him and his hook head on. he smiles, and I find that despite myself- so do I. it's the sort of anger management and letting off steam that I needed. but it's not over yet.  
my blood is roaring in my ears in a rush of Adrenalin and alcohol and something that is so much like desire but so much more destructive. Blue eyes meeting gold ones. Him with a hook, me with my daggers. bring it on.

He starts moving towards me in something that may or may not be this fight's closing move when suddenly he is tackled by the color yellow.

No, wait, that makes no sense.

The blur that sends harry off his feet and crashing into a mass of chairs and cheering people is not the color yellow but rather- Gill.

it's easy to forget the behind that lovely smile and puppy dog attitude, Gill is one of the most brutal fighters the isle has to offer- that the inherited his instincts, his speed and his ability to break bones and teeth from the human who went tow to tow with the beast. It's easy to forget that he is the sort of guy who would make childish and stupid jokes, but then walk into a fighting cage and come out while the other guy needs to be scraped off the floor. easy to forget. I remember it now, as I see him, or rather- almost see him, moving fast and with a rugby tackle pushes harry hook away and to the floor in one quick move. it's a terrifying sight, and I am happy I am not on the receiving end of this one. But Gill would never attack his superiors, not unless...

"I said enough!" Uma roars. This time I hear her loud and clear.

There are moments when one could attempt to challenge one's captain- This is one hundred percent not one of them. Uma is furious, she i standing on the bar, teeth bare and sword blazing, just waiting to see if either me or Harry were feeling lucky enough to test her.

I look to the point where Harry landed, now being lifted back to his feet by Gill and Johnny, one of the larger lads. Harry sways as he tries to straight before his captain.  
he is bruised, bloody, and he has something that almost resembles an after sex glow about him with the dilated irises and the flushed face and everything. We are both out of breath as we look at the mess we've made of the bar. it's bad.  
There are tables pushed every which way and chairs tossed about the room. There is beer and rum and a mush that was once potato chips before it found it's was to the floor and been stepped in repeatedly. there is broken glass and blood and mud and as I look around I slightly guess and the mess is not made entirely by us but rather with a hearty contribution of our crew mates who were all too eager to cheer us on. this doesn't change the fact the the place is an absolute disaster, and knowing aunt Ursula this is not gonna end well.

"I'm so sor-"

"No. shut up" she stops me "just shut up". she looks beyond furious.

"I didn't mean-" I try again

Uma looks like she is another word from me from exploding. she let's out a long breath and says in a strained tone "I'm gonna let you off the hook because of today… and harry… oh dammit just get the hell out of my face".

"Uma" harry tries to plead with her

"Now!" she roars. That's an end of discussion if I have ever seen one

"the rest of you get to work"

* * *

Outside the cold hits me like a slap in the face. I shiver and curl into my jacket, already missing the warmth within the bar. it's the end of summer, that loathsome time of the year when I could leave the flat wearing nothing and by nightfall curse my decision to do so. this jacket- for example- was a bad choice. harry joins me joins me out in the cold and looks, annoyingly, undisturbed by it. I curse under my breath

"That was a nice punch" he muses

"Wish I could say the same" I bite back. I could,actually, say the same as is clear from the still very present pain in my stomach, but I'll be damned if I give him this satisfaction.

"Oh come on, I had ya at my mercy" he say.

Harry hook stands nearly a full head over me even when I'm on hills. He looks down at me and smiles- it's a warm, fond, smile and it feels painfully nostalgic. it makes me miss a different time- a time when this was the only smile he had for me. It's as though this fight or the one before never happened. It's as though he never led to me that he loved me only to toss me aside like a rag doll. Used me as a band aid for a broken heart stomped at by Mal. It always goes back to Mal with us it seems.

"I would have gutted you like a fish" I snarl at him, he is close enough that I don't have to raise my voice to threaten him.

"Keep telling yerself that" he says.

We stand there is a tense silence for another moment before I can't stand any longer and walk away. I stop and bend down to sheath my dagger hack at my boot, checking with a small brush of my fingers that the one in the other boot is still there and wasn't lost in the fight. A heavy set of boots behind me tells me he is still following along.

"what do you want harry?" I ask, not even looking at him as I try to figure out the least troublesome way home and the best way to get rid of him without further violence. I am tired and I just want to curl up in my hammock and sleep away the inevitable hangover.

"Not sure" he admits "so are ye back?" he asks

"It would seem so" I say "Uma says she needs me"

"I wonder why" he ponders and I try to figure out if he is being sarcastic or not, has the fight taken away the edge of his madness or does he still have energy to burn through, if he does, can I get him to push it somewhere else. I turn to face him.

"Probably my unbearable charm" I say, sarcasm dripping and expecting to see an equally smug smile. But when I look at his face I find something I did not expect.

He is as serious as a heart attack "what?" I ask, unsure what else to say anymore.

He walks nearer still.  
He is so close now, that in the chill of the night I can feel the heat radiating off him through his tattered shirt. He was always abnormally warm, like a human oven to curl up to under blankets. it's as if his skin can't actually contain the fire within him, the burning inferno in his heart that makes him do everything so damn aggressively. he is made of fire and it looks for outlets- in fighting, in fucking, in dancing. I used to think that the warmth of him was simply more of this fire trying to get out. He places a large palm on my shoulder, is moves softly to rest at the crook of my neck. I look up to say something, anything really, but then he leans closer, his hot breath tingling against the shell of my ear. It send a wild shiver down my spine and I fight to not close my eyes. This is not supposed to be tempting or arousing and I am annoyed at the fact that I need to remind my body of that.  
"if ye ever betray her, or disappear again when she needs you, I'll be coming after ya myself". I'ts just a whisper, but it make me catch my breath.

I stand there completely frozen, unsure what to do or say, until I remember that being threatened by the man who broke me and with whom I just had a full on bar fight should not be considered a sexy affair. that it shouldn't make me feel this giddy or aroused and that I am absolutely done looking weak in front of this man. he wants to play tough? fine. I am not playing his stupid game any longer.  
I push my palm against his chest and shove him away from me as hard as I can. He stumbles back a bit from surprise at my reaction. I think that he probably expected to still have power to turn my inside into liquid.

"Listen, first mate" I spit, this caught his attention alright "I am back because Uma came to me and asked me back. She wants me as part the crew, and she wants me as part of the team. So unless you feel like explaining to your captain why I got up and left I suggest you behave yourself. I can act like an adult and help us take down Auradon. Can you?".

For a moment, just a split second, I see in his eyes that I caught him off guard. But then it's shoved back behind the ever smug grin of Harry Hook.

"Yes ma'am"

* * *

When I arrive back in our flat I do it on tiptoes, knowing that my father would normally be asleep or deep in work at this time of the evening and knowing how mad he gets when disturbed. I take of my boots carefully and place them careful still on the floor. I am about to peek my head through the door to see if he is awake and ask him if he would like me to make him some tea when it hits me.

Hand still holding the doorknob I stand there, rigid and and more lost than I have ever felt. Our flat is cold and dark and as quiet as death… no… bad allegory. But I don't have another. It's not like we made a lot of noise all the time. We could, when we laughed or screamed at one another. But not all the time.

But it turns out that simply knowing that another person was alive and breathing in the other room made a difference, as if simply having another presence in the house made it feel warmer and nicer to sleep in. now id feels like the loneliest place in the world.

In that moment there is a part of me that wants to go back to the bar and beg Uma to let me stay. to sleep over like we did when we were kids, to talk about boys and plan mischief under our blankets until aunt Ursula would come it and scream at us to shut the hell up and go to sleep.  
In this silent moment in the apartment I miss those days so much it physically hurts like my heart has been crushed to a burning coal.

I realize that I caved in on myself, that I am standing alone in an empty house, holding a doorknob to an empty room, caved in on myself because I can't even stand straight.

I let out a sound that I am not quite sure if it was meant to be a laugh or a sob and force myself to stand up.

My father did not raise a weak daughter.

I will survive this. I will get to Auradon and I will bring them to their knees with my crew. I will finally confront my bitch of a mother who left us here to die.

Leaving us both here will be her worst regret.

I try to make as much noise as I can as I clean up and undress and go to sleep, anything I can to feel not as alone in this house.

That night I curl to sleep in my hammock, telling myself that tomorrow morning first thing i will move my belongings to the bedroom.

* * *

 _than you so much for reading!_

 _at the moment I am still writing at the weird pace of almost a chapter a day but I assume it will go down a bit once I calm down..._

 _I do have the rest of the plot planned out so that's a good sign for this things hopeful longevity._


	4. Chapter 4- Pomegranate

_Authors note: when I wanted to write this fic I wanted to bring forward a version of the isle that is darker than the one in the films. I thought to myself what would it look like if you lock an entire generation for the sins of their parents and let them be poisoned by the anger and need for vengeance of said parents. for the most part I think the movies handled the concept beautifully (Jay and Carlos gorging the candy in the limo is funny only until you remember that they probably have a- eat now cuz who knows when will you have food again- attitude) . I wanted to push this idea further- to create the isle as some sort of bad neighborhood meets lord of the flies. this is why in this chp you will see more of the mundane darkness which the film was lacking because... well... it was for kids._

 _this chapter also comes with a song- Davy Jones's theme (Pirates of the Caribbean)_

* * *

 **Chapter 4 -** **pomegranate**

It's only a week later when I even start sifting through his belongings.  
A part of me keeps expecting him to be there when I get home from practicing with the crew, sitting at his table working on more and more way to try and wring magic through the barrier into the isle. I expect to find his desk overflowing with paper work; I expect to find dirty dishes in the sink. It takes me two days to come in and not do it as quietly as I always used to and it takes me longerto realize that I don't have to take my boots off right away. He won't scream at me to take them off. He won't scream anything. It's a week later and I still sleep in my hammock in my corner that is still covered by the sheet.

It's stupid and I know it. There is a perfectly good bed in the other room and I don't even need the cover anymore because there is no one but me in the house. But my habits, apparently, have little to do with logic.  
When I try to sleep without the cover on my corner I feel like he might come out any second and tell me to cover up, and when I try to sleep in his bed I feel like an intruder. The house as a whole feels just as cold and quiet as it did the first night alone. Suddenly I notice everything- the ways in which this old building ticks and clicks at night, the sound of rats running through the wall, the patterns of dust in the air. There are nights I think I can even here the mould as it grow.  
So I try to be in the house as little as I possibly can- luckily there is much work to be done.

The crew works towards the next opportunity to escape the isle. The next time the magical barriers would be taken down for the limo to come in and carry another lucky little brat to the promised land of charms and goodness. We estimate from the previous times we saw it happen that the barrier would ACTUALLY be down for only a few moments. But Uma insists that if we await those moments one of the hidden spots near the barrier itself we should be just fine to slip through.

Unfortunately this seems to be the only part of the plan that Uma knows to be safe and fault proof. The rest of the plan has an… improvisational sort of vibe to it.

Taking herself across the border and all the way to Auradon undetected was child's play for her. With the magic disabling system gone she could muster up enough power to shift into her other form, that terrifying she-octopus that was her mother's only form. When she was shaped like this fearsome creature she could swim as far and as fast as necessary without being detected once. As kids she would always beat all of us with any sort of competition that came to swimming- with the actual powers of the ocean at her finger tips she was something to be feared.  
This was all fine and great- but carrying a whole crew through and across was going to be much trickier. And require some actual careful preparation.

The first thing that became abundantly clear is that not the whole crew could come across until the barriers were shut down from within Auradon. Crossing at that moment when the barrier would be down ( what we came to simply call "show-time") would take a small and quick vassal that would feet 4 or five at the most, and that's without any cargo at all. So Uma had to choose a smaller, more efficient team to make the first task force.  
After much arguing and negotiating within the crew the dream team (or nightmare team… depends if were to be with or against us) included Uma, Harry, Gill and myself. The rest would have to wait for us to bring in the cavalry.

The cavalry, as it turned out, was a part of the plan that Uma entrusted almost fully to me. She was absolutely sure in her belief that once I touched land where magic was alive and willing I'll be able to summon- I'll be able to command the forces of the underworld to bring chaos to our enemies. It took me three whole days to explain to her that despite knowing all the mechanics and working of a summoning spell- I have never actually attempted.  
She argued back that what was the point of my lessons if I couldn't perform the magic when everything we've built depended on it.

"I am not saying I can't!" I would argue back "I am just saying it and that there is a difference between doing magic in theory and doing it in practice"

"like what?"

"I don't know!" I would yell, sometimes throwing my hand in the air infrustration. I didn't know if I could do it, what if I am no good in magic? Or what if I inherited my mother's instead of my father's, power over spring instead of over death. What if I would just end up summoning flowers and baby ducklings- now that would surely scare Auradon into submission.

Aside from the planning and scheming the crew was busy with other tasks. There was constant work to be done and it seemed to not exhaust them at all but rather fill them with a weird sense of purpose.

Boredom was as much a killer of the isle as disease hungers and stab wounds. Boredom could make you stir crazy, it could make you do reckless things and make mistakes you had no hope of correcting simply for the heck of it. When nothing moved and you had no way to change your life and your circumstances you found that suddenly blowing stuff for the hack of it did not seem like such a crazy notion. When nothing could ever change and you were powerless- you found that nothing mattered. When nothing mattered it was easy to beat someone bloody over a drink, to stab over a turf war, to leave the boy you love bleeding in an ally while to try to make it home before passing out.  
It's why Uma fought with ferocity of an animal to make a name for herself, it's why Gill followed anyone strong enough to promise better, it's why Harry treated himself and others like nothing, and it's why I treated others like they were barbed wire.  
It turned out to my astonishment that simply giving the crew what to do and them believing that it could actually change something was enough to bring out something I have never seen in the isle. Hope. It was like a different kind of magic on all of us.

That week was work around the clock.

Scouts were out gathering information on potential Auradon candidates and when they may be scheduled to be removed from the isle. Others built the boat that would carry us of when show-time arrived.

Uma and I worked day and night on all sorts of spells and tricks that would help us on our journey. The work was all theoretical because of the lack of magic on the isle like any other magic lesson we ever had. We ended us receiving help for an unsuspected source- her mother, Ursula, occasionally throwing in backhanded tips and insights. Never committing to help or to guide… turns out when one lost absolutely everything it was hard to make them hope again. Thinking of that made me feel a surge of pride at my cousin and her first mate, who had everything they could want at reach, lost it, and still fought tooth and claw for it.

It was over a week after the night in the bar when Harry finally spoke to me again. For all this time he kept his distance, never picking fights, not teasing or touching. The familiarity gone, but so was the hostility. He was being true to his word – he was being an adult about the whole thing.

But as the day of departure was drawing nearer, and with the knowledge that we will be in close proximity until the mission is done, this tense quite between us was getting near unbearable.

Today, it would seem, he had enough as well.

"You are tying it wrong" he comments. He sits, sprawled like a cat on the ship's edge, shining his hook with a tattered piece of cloth.

"What?" I ask

"Your knot" he says and gives a jerk of his head "you need to keep tightening it as you wrap the rope, otherwise it will come undone when it gets wet"

"Oh" I say, looking down at the knot I was practicing. Having never sailed anywhere of the isle and not coming from seafaring background like the others-I had to try and catch up quickly. Tying knots, opening sails and prepping a ship to sail was second nature to Uma and harry. They grew up on stories of the ocean much like I grew up on stories of the underworld. I had to learn quickly and so I had Simon, Smee's son, teach me the basics. He was patient and taught me to the best of his ability- and I hoped that with enough practice I could be good enough to at least not get in the way. Maybe.

"Here" he says and moves over from his perch. He kneels beside me and grabs the rope. He wraps it around his palm and yanks it forcefully, the rope lets out a sound almost like a pained moan but it hold tighter around the wood. Ok, so this is how it's done.

"You have to do that for every new wrap of the knot you add" he says and hands me the tense rope "otherwise it won't hold"

"Thanks" I say and take it back. I yank at it and finish the knot.

"Don't mention it" he says. He gets up and kicks the knot forcefully. It doesn't move an inch and Harry gives it a satisfied smile "it's no good if we drown because you are a shite sailor"

The comment is given so lightly and with such and easy smile that I can't help but chuckle "worst case scenario I summon you with the rest you my army"

"IF you can summon an army" he retorts

"If" I agree "if is good"

I look at him in this moment and I feel like there is something unsaid there. He doesn't look at me straight in the eye anymore, not sober anyway. When I asked for him to be an adult about us I didn't imagine he would end up actually being good at it and it frustrated me. I am just about to make some lousy joke to defuse the tension when Uma and Gill draw our attention.

"It's tomorrow night!" she yells.

They are running towards the ship, their faces beaming with joy as they keep yelling those words over and over. The wait is finally over.

Tomorrow night. The barriers would be open for a few moments, during which we will not be here anymore- we would slip out on our little half mast boat and sail away from this place.

After 18 years, on a day like any other at the end of summer, I am finally getting off this prison. It seems completely unreal.  
I realize that this would probably be my last chance to look through my father's things for anything useful.

* * *

As expected there is a lot of junk there.

The boxes have unfinished spells, knick knack, positions with expiration dates that must predate my own birthday.

I find some clothes, an old cloak that I have to cut sorted so that it won't drag behind me, a few small blades I add to the sheaths at my back and hips. Among all the sort of useful stuff I find even more old suspicious vials.

I have about a dozen vials of who knows what terrors at hand when I decide to try and find a safe way to dispose of them. Simply throwing them in the trash won't do- Almost every trash bin on the isle is being looked through at least once a day) hell- I've done it myself before) and I don't want any unlucky idiot to think it's a good idea to try and drink any of this. I would have to bury them somewhere and ask aunt Ursula how to deal with this when all of this is over… a potion master as good as she is might actually be able to salvage some of this. But I would need a strong container that won't break or leak.

So I practically crawl into the storage until I fish out a box that seems sturdy enough. It takes some time and some rummaging through a decade of hoarding when I finally find a box that seems like it could do the trick. The box I find is one I have never seen before, which is not so strange considering how little of all the other stuff I've seen. It's made of black marble that is smooth and cold to the touch and it had no markings on it that I can see.

I open it carefully, scared of what my father may have kept in a box like this but am greeted with nothing my the smell of dust and black velvety inside- the box is nearly empty.

Except for a locket

I pick it up slowly and inspect it. It dangles off a silver chain; it's red and oval… perhaps the shape of a heart. But rounder. An apple?

I turn the locket in my hands, entranced by the shade and beauty of it. It's blood red and smooth, and it's by far the most expensive thing I have ever touched. The chain alone could have fed us for nearly a year and the locket itself… cut out of a single piece of some clear red gem.

As it catches a ray of sun from the dusty window it's like it comes alive, the light breaks within it and colors the room with dots of red stars.

At the top of the tiny orb there a delicate shape almost likes a crown. I turn it in my hands a couple to times more when I realize what is the shape of the locket.

It's a pomegranate.

It's the fruit that damned my mother to the underworld. It's the fruit that gave her me… before she left to be with her mother she ate six grains of the fruit that bound her to him and made sure she had to spend half a year with him in the underworld. It would seem like a horrible thing to do to a lover but she always said she named me after the one place she was happiest and free. The underworld. At the bottom of the locket there are words engraved in a delicate swirling writing.

" _My love, so that you will always find your way home"_

My breath catches in my throat and I find myself reading them over and over.

I don't need to wonder from who was this given or to whom. It was made by my father Hades as a gift to my mother Persephone.

I clutch it in my hands at if simply loosening my grip on it could make it vanish. My thumb presses down on the crown of the fruit and suddenly I hear it click.

Panicked, I look at it in fear that I may have broken it but instead I see that it opened in half.

With hands shaking I open it wide and look inside it.

Inside the fruit there is a mirror of the blackest obsidian on one side and a picture on the other. I have to squint my eyes to see all the details of it and when I do I wish I hadn't.

I don't remember ever seeing my father smile like that. It's like looking at a completely different person. He is smiling, standing tall, beaming, and the light in his eyes can only be matched by that in the eyes of the woman beside him who looks at him with so much love in her eyes and a smile frozen in time.

It's her.

I have never seen her, not even in pictures, but seeing her now I realize what he always meant by his cruel insult comparing me to her. We look so much alike. Her face is the same face only sun kissed and warm colored, the same nose, the same lips, the same rich golden hair. We are so similar it hurts to look at. You could put us at a crown of millions and anyone could spot the resemblance.

And she left me.

I am so much like her I am practically a carbon copy and she left me here before I could even remember her to be properly angry. She left us both to die here and ran off to her old life.

I drop to the floor and I can't even feel the pain in my knees.

I have been crying for a while, without even feeling the tears but now there is now stopping them. I clutch the locket to my chest as sob after sob rattle through me. I probably sound like a wounded animal but for once in my life I can't bring myself to stop or to care.

In those moments I feel younger than I have ever felt. Sitting in a dirty apartment, clutching the one thing I have ever had of my mother among the things left behind by my father crying the parent that didn't bother to stay and the one who tried but couldn't. I sit there on the floor and I don't just sob anymore- I fucking scream.

There are no words there, I just let shouts of pain I didn't know I was holding back and ripped out of me and fill the room. I cave down of myself and I just can't stop.

All the tears I didn't cry when he was dying and I had no one to turn to, all the tears I didn't cry at the funeral, all the tears I didn't cry this entire weak are being ripped out of me and I can't stop.

I don't know how long I've been there. I tried to get up and pack, partially aware that it's almost sundown and that the crew would be waiting at midnight at the docks but I can't seem to get my body to function.

It's pathetic. It's everything my father had ever hated.

When harry comes in to check on me- this is how he finds

* * *

 _boy that turned out depressing. I hope you enjoyed it._

 _till next time_


	5. Chapter 5: The Ones we Choose

_Authors note: hello again and welcome back!_

 _nothing much to say this time accept this one, also, come with a song._

 _the song is Drought ,by Vienna Teng_

 _enjoy_

 **Chapter 5 : The ones we choose and the ones we don't**

Harry's POV

I hate this building. All the buildings in the isle are falling apart in one way or another. When I was younger my old man came home one night, grabbed his drink and crashed into his chair, which crashed into the floor bellow. Ruin and decay were normal and ordinary on the isle, but they would normally be painted over and covered with flamboyance that fit the owners of the houses. This building is different, there are about four apartments in there with Semele's being the top one. The place is decaying alright- the walls are shedding chalk and color, mould grows in every corner and there are cracks and signs of wear and tear anywhere you look. But it seems in a way as if the place and it's owners sort of…gave up. No one ever tried to decorate or repaint the place. Save for Sem's old sketches and doodles of the underworld inside her house there is no way of knowing this place used to house the bloody lord of the underworld. It's downright depressing to look at.

"Semele!" I yell into the staircase, my voice carries and echoes in the empty space.I wait and listen for a few moments and hear nothing. I huff in frustration, look around, and climb up to pound on the on the door in person.

"Sem! Open up!" I shout. Still no response.

She is not late, yet, but knowing her as the punctual sort I expected her to be there before Uma and me. With only an hour until Showtime and a boat to load up and a location to get to… I've been getting a bit on edge to say the least.

So I ordered the others to load up the boat and made my way to her building. I took the way on the ground, having no one to fear of running into, not entirely sure if I should try and meet her on the way or what I should do if something serious had happened.  
Ok. Maybe I was more on edge than usual.

My first thought is that Lucas Heathcliff must have caught up with her- the snotty little fop was willing to pay off anyone who would break her arms in return for his wrist and he made it well known around the isle. Stupid move. Once we heard about that Uma and I sent a scare crew to him, our boys caught him in one of the alleys, beat him a bit, delivered the message that Sem was once again protected by Uma, and that unless he was feeling particularly lucky or suicidal he should call off the hunt. They took his pants with them for good measure. He is not the type to so bluntly defy us and he is not especially brave on his own so I think this option was taken care of.

My next thought is that she might have chickened out and was now hiding in some ditch from Uma and me. A part of me wants to believe that she could have done it. A part of me wants to assume the worst about her- still angry at the fact that we were missing such a ruthless fighter when we needed all hands on deck. But as annoying as she can get I know that she wouldn't do it. Sem is hard to read, she hold her cards close to her chest and she can get creepily quite at times- but she is loyal her and Uma are more than blood and she wouldn't betray her. Besides- she is just as hungry to leave this rock as the rest of us.

I had all sorts of idea of what could have happened- someone was skillful and stupid enough to randomly mug her. Something in her father's stuff ate her. She had a piano fall on her and now she crushed dead somewhere (or something else… I am not sure who on the isle except my Dad even owns a piano).

I take out my pocket watch and let out an angry grunt. Clock's ticking.

I feel like I have thoroughly and completely exhausted all the possible polite solution to my little problem, so I do the next logical thing and kick in the door.

Whatever I thought could have happened to Semele to make her so late- this was not one of them. In a way it's even more unlikely and outlandish than the damn piano idea.

Semele, daughter of the late Hades, one of the most fearsome girls I have ever known, one of the only girl who could go toe to toe with me in a fight. Uma's first scout and theif. The thing that goes creep and bump in the night. That Semele. The woman who when I when I broke her heart did not cry but rather tried to shank me with a broken bottle. That Semele.

She is now sitting on the dusty floor of her house in a fetal position, shaking and rocking as she is clutching...something. And she is crying. Not the angry tears that sometimes escape her, not screaming, not tearing up. No. Semele is sitting on the floor in a fetal position, shaking and rocking and she is sobbing like a little child. No, not like a child, because even as a child I have never seen her like this. I have known this girl almost my entire life and not even once have I seen her like this.

I am not sure what could have caused this.

Semele's PoV

I didn't hear him come in.

I was somewhere else. I was a broken ruined mess of the floor trying to piece my mind back together, barely registering that I should probably start making my way to the dock.

I didn't realize I wasn't alone anymore until two firm hands grabbed at my shoulders and straitened me up forcefully to look at him. My first thought was of my father, again. A childish part of me not fully realising that he is gone. My eyes are puffy, my nose is running, and my head hurts; I know that I must look like a complete disaster. As the owner on these hands looks at me I find myself mumbling an apology. I am not even sure what for.

"What the hell happened to you?" asks harry, he is dressed for sailing, his eyes -lined with kohl to protect them from the sun- are wide with an emotion I can barely understand. He looks afraid ,or angry, or a mix of both.

I want him to look away. I can't have him see me, here, now, like this. No one who wasn't blood has ever seen me like this.

"I'm sorry" I say again, still not sure what for. For being late? For being weak? For having him witnesses this pathetic display?

"What the hell are you apologizing for?!" he is pretty much yelling now. I am still shaking as I try to stop the sobs.

"I don't know" I admit "I was looking through his stuff and-" I am still clutching the locket, hand shaking and knuckles white around it.

"What is this" he asks and reaches for the jewel in my hand. I yank it away from him before I can think better of my movement. It's like that same instinct from the other night playing my body like a puppet.

"Don't!" I snarl at him. He stares at me, wide eyed and concerned. We stay frozen like this for a moment before I realize that this time I am the one acting out of a mad impulse.  
Carefully, as if it might fly away or turn into dust, I open my palm to reveal the crystal pomegranate I'm holding. I give the crown a light push with my thumb and the locket clicks open, revealing the strange dark mirror and the picture that shattered me to pieces.

Harry looks at the picture for a long moment and lets out a sigh. He knows. He knows about my anger towards the mother I never met, he was there as I ranted about her and my father's fixated rage at her that found its way to me on the bad nights. He knows that the reason I dye the tips of my golden hair blue was in an attempt to make him compare me to her less. He knows because before we were stupid enough to break each other he was the one I told all of that. And I was the one he told about wanting to live up to his father, to his older sister, about wanting to sail one day as far as the tropical isles at the edge of the maps. I was the one who helped patch him up and saw him cry when his father gave him a black eye with a bottle of rum.  
Before we were stupid enough to break each other to pieces he was that blessed piece of wood you use to stay afloat on stormy nights. And I was his.

His grip on my shoulders softens. I think he thinks the same thing, because suddenly he pulls me into his arms in an embrace that feels like… like coming home. It's warm in his embrace and as my shock fades with the feeling of relief I bury my wet face in his the crook of his shoulder. he reaches a hesitant hand and strokes my messy hair. He says nothing. There is no "it's alright" because nothing will be unless we make it so. There is no hushing and shushing because we are not children any longer. He holds me in silence for a few moments as I breathe in the familiarity of him. After a few more moments of this I finally, finally, stop crying. I let out a deep breath and I can feel my muscles loosen with relief. He gives me a light squeeze to, a gesture that may be a way to say he is still there, and may be something else altogether.

"I shouldn't have said what I said about your hook and Jay" I mumble into his jacket.

He chuckles "no. you shouldn't have" he agrees "but I was being a bit of a bellend to"

"A bit?" I tease

"That's all the apology you are getting" he says and moves away from me. I miss the warmth of him instantly but he is right. Enough time has been wasted. He looks around the room, finds my bag, and tosses it to me. I barely catch it before it hits me in the face.

"Is Uma pisses?" I ask as I strap it on. I pick up the vials of who-knows-what potions and place them safely in the marble box, ready to be dealt with quickly.

"Not yet" he says

"We better get going" I say, I make for the door but he stops me.

"Sem" he calls and I turn to him. It's been a while since he called me by my pet name "look, you were right about family. If I would have lost mine… my old man or my sister I... I would be ruined"

that this must be heard for him to say, to admit this sort of connection and humanity. I stay quiet and I let him go on.

"The point is" he continues "your family is the ones you choose and the ones you don't. And you are not alone. Uma won't let you be, the crew wouldn't let you be"

I know all of this. And still hearing it said by him catches me off guard. I am not sure what to do so I just say "thanks"

"I mean it" he says "unless of course you are chickening out on us in which case all bets are off" he adds with a wicked grin.

There is the harry I know.

I return I wicked grin of my own and look out the window.

"I know Harry" I say I look at the box, now full of mysterious monstrosities. I decide to go off and hide it under the wobbly floor board under the bed -the one my dad used to stash money or items that had some magic about them to sustain him. Once it's over I realize I am still holding the locket.

I look at it, unsure what to do with it next.

"You should wear it" harry says, I see that he was leaning on the doorframe and watched me stash away the box.  
I look at him and raise an eyebrow. One would never wear something so flashy on the isle- that's basically asking to be robbed. He sighs and walks over to me, a part of me wants to take a step back as I remember the other night but I stay put and look up at him. He reaches for the locket and this time I don't flinch.

"You would need it to prove to her who you are when you face her, so she knows she had it coming" he says, he puts the long chain around my neck and leaves the jewel to dangle on my chest "besides, it look nice on you" he grins.

I return a wicker grin of my own. I look at the room I am about to leave, thinking that I should probably feel like this is a bigger deal- considering the fact that I lived here my entire life. But there is no time for sentimentality, it's almost show time. " I wonder if you are going to beat me to the dock" I say casually

Harry looks at be in bewilderment for a moment, but he is quick to get out of the way as I run past him- and jump out of the window.  
Buildings in this part of the isle are built close… And yet I haven't taken this route in awhile. I hear Harry's mad bark of laughter as he rushes after me and we take the way running across the roof to the docks.

The boat is a small, elongated, vessel with a single short mast. It has a steering rod and a triangular sail and noting else. It's built for speed and stealth and holds no comforts whatsoever. We can't carry much on it- we carry some fresh water, some dries food and the things we will need to try and summon the dead. With all of that and the four of us there is little room for anything else.

We go over the plan of sailing it to Auradon twice more as we load it and wait for the darkness.  
The plan is to sail slowly to the very edge of the barrier and wait for it to go down. Then, we will take the boat another few feet outside the barrier and stay put to wait for sufficient darkness. We are to make the cross from the side that doesn't turn directly to Auradon in order to not be spotted by the off chance of someone just happening to turn a telescope to the isle. It's a very slim chance, but we all agree it's still not worth the risk.

As we board the little vessel the rest of the crew comes along and pushes us into the water. They push us far enough so we can sail away on our own and even further. This job could have been done easily by three strong pair of hand but as we descend into the darkening water we are pushed on all sides by what seems like nearly the entire crew.  
I think I understand why. It's the same feeling of purpose and hope that nested within us all in the past weeks, a feeling that carries us on to the impossible mission but for the rest of the crew has no outlet, has no way to go after this night as they are to sit here and wait for a sign to rain hell on our enemies. So they do what they can. They rub our hair and slap us on the shoulder and push the boat on as far as they can- just to let this feeling of purpose carry on a little while longer. Take them a little further.

As we draw further and further from the shore we look back and them. They waving at us and cheering us on, shouting obscene things we should do once we have the kind at our mercy. I look at Uma and harry and Gill and we smile and wave back, promising that yes, we will, and of course we will burn every damn dress in the palace, and don't worry we will keep every cook alive.  
We keep this up as far as we can, so long as we are in their vision. As soon as we turn around the corner of cliffs and rock, and soon as we are out of the lagoon and by the barrier all the smiles melt of our faces.

I look to the others and I know that they are thinking the same thing- we will come back victorious, or we won't come back at all. We won't come back empty handed because coming back and looking them, our family, in the face as we shatter their dream will be worse than anything any of us can imagine.

We stir quietly until Uma directs us to stop. And then we wait.

"Look!" Gill whispers and I follow his pointed hand with my gaze.

On the far side of the bridge, the Auradonian side, I can see a flash of light. At first I need to squint my eyes to see it but then as the bridge build on… I can't look away.

It's magic.

Real, living, glorious magic. I could stare at is forever. I probably would have if Uma didn't grab at my arm and hissed "Hey sleeping beauty! This is it".

She is right. There will be lots of time to admire magic when I have it at my own fingertips. When it's all ours.

I quickly grab one of the oars and wait for a sign. I wait to see the barrier disappear, for anything to let me know that it's safe to push through. Every time I asked Uma in the briefs how we would know that the barrier is gone (what with it being invisible) her answer was the same;

"You'll just know" she said. And so I waited. Patiently. To just know.

The tension is unbearable as the limo and the bridge draw closer to the isle. On the little boat we all sit, oars in hand, as still and as silent as rock and we almost hold our breath.

The limo disappears out of our field of vision and the barrier come down to allow is safe passage to the isle.

Turn out Uma was right. I did know when the field went down. This close to Auradon there is no way in hell I could have missed it. It feels like a rush of air blowing in my face. Like falling face first into water. It's the magic, I realize, rushing in to full at empty space.

"NOW!"

I try to put my oar in the water and stir us forward, to obey my captain's order- but there is something wrong. Something is strange in the air. I can't put my finger on it. I try to force my hands to move but it's as though I lost all control of my body. I try to tell the others that something is wrong, that we must have stirred straight into the barrier but am shocked to see that they seem perfectly fine. Right as rain. Oars in the water they stir us quickly across. One breath, two breathes. We are now three of four feet out of the barrier. We have to be.

Uma says something but I can't hear anything, there is a thunderous roaring in my ears and i lose my balance, I crash to the floor of the boat, still not sure what the hell went wrong.

I try to call for help from the others as my field of vision is filled with more and more black dots. They take over everything.

I still fight to tell them that something went horribly wrong when I pass out

 _Hope you have enjoyed this one!_


	6. Chapter 6: Through the Mist

_Hello lovlies! welcome back!_

 _his one,as usual, comes with a song!  
The song is "Woman", from "The Pirate Queen"_

 _hope you enjoy_

 **Chapter 6: Through the mist**

It's a spring morning.

The blinds on the window don't close properly and I am blazed awake by the bright cold sun of late morning. it's a treacherous thing- it will light all the darkest corners but won't actually keep you warm. Normally the lack of any actual proper blankets would make me shiver and curl in on myself in an attempt to preserve body heat, but lucky for me I got something better.

Under a rough fabric that may have once been a sail, in a lazy spring morning, I have my own human oven- Harry Hook.

I blink awake slowly and turn my head as carefully as I possibly can to look at him.

He is still asleep. Knowing him to be a light sleeper I don't try to turn and face him, so I have to crane my neck to look at him without actually moving my body in the safe haven of his arms. Movements like that would have your neck aching for a week but I am flexible enough and besides- it's worth it.

He is so damn beautiful.

I think that everyone looks calmer and softer when they sleep, but harry hooks looks damn angelic. my eyes slowly adjust to the light and to the concept of being awake. I study every single eyelash, every blemish and freckle on his sleeping face. I study the details of him like constellations in the night sky- the more you look at them the more you see and the more beautiful the picture becomes.

"This can't be comfortable" he remarks lazily. he must have seen me maneuver to try and watch him under those this dark lashes of is.

I chuckle and take the opportunity to shift around to face him. His strong chest in my face as I breathe him in.

"Morning" I mumble

"Is it?" he grumbles

"Probably not" I say. I can't see a clock but if I had to guess I would say we must be closer to noon.

"Good" he says and tightens his embrace on me. He still hasn't actually opened his eyes. This man would be practically nocturnal if he could afford to be. The fact that he still looks sun-kissed while I am white as chalk is one of the great unfairnesses of life.

We have been squatting in this place for a couple of weeks, having officially taken our relationship from teasing and flirting to full on fucking each other's brains out. We can't exactly do that in my place with my father always being around and me not having a room, and the Jolly Roger is obviously not an option. The earthed ship is resting in a shallow part of the lagoon, molding and rotting away. In times I spent time there overnight I could hear the old wood creaking and moaning as in the night. It's like sleeping inside the carcass of a beast long dead. Once it was majestic and menacing, now it's a sad dying thing, made heartbreaking by the attachment of the hook family to it. But as Harry realized it's either we found another place other that the ship or we won't be getting the goods- he relented. I am not sure who live in this dusty attic before- maybe it was abandoned maybe harry kicked whoever was here out- but as we came in it was blissfully empty. A tiny shoe-box of a space not much bigger than my corner at my home. It's colored with years of dust and decay and has nothing it is but a worn out futon mat the sail harry brought in with us. It has been piling up of empty bottles and food wrappings since we started using it- often content to not leave it at all unless to steal food or relieve ourselves. It should be disgusting, this place, but to me it has become the safest place in the world.

"What are ya doing today?" he mumbles after a while.

I think of it and when I remember I let out a frustrated groan "I have summoning lesson" I say in defeat.

"Your old man?" he asks

"Yeah"

"Bullock" he swears, knowing that there is no way in hell I will stand up my father to stay with him in bad, as much as I would have like to "what do you even to in this lesson if you can't get any magic".

"The theory" I say "the art of it. A lot of talking of string"

"Strings?" he lifts an eyebrow with confusion

"Threads of magical energy that connect things. You can pull on them to make things do things" I try my hardest to explain. My father's analogy of the threads used to make me understand that magic is everywhere outside of this prison. He insisted that if I can understand it, the in's and out's of magic I'll be able to do anything if I ever leave this place. Pull stuff out of thin air; make myself into smoke and shadow… now that would be useful in my line of work.

"Does is work?" harry asks

"No idea" I admit, having never actually seen magic in my life "It's his approach. I could try to explain"

"Pass" he cuts me

"Thought so" I smile at him and move to lie on his chest with my bare one. I look him straight in the eye like this and the sight of those gorgeous blues… I can't help but think all sorts of things we could do that would make sure I am late for my class. So perhaps I better not.

"But after my class" I muse, making lazy circles on his chest with my fingers. He smirks at me.

"What did you have in mind?" he asks

"I say we grab the others and go dancing" it's been a while since we went to Oogie Boogie's basement of terrors. A dingy little hole deep in town, full of smoke and loud music and card games that end in bad decisions. those nights would end with us horribly drunk and dancing until we can't see straight or until we get kicked out. I haven't been there since me and Harry started being… this familiar and I was dying to experience that place in this new position. Nights at Boogie's for me would often include (in addition to the before mentioned) making out with a stranger to try to get Harry to pay attention, only to be disappointed and angry and bitter when he didn't. Now- with him all to myself I planned to make it a night he would never forget.

I see a moment's hesitation in his eyes that makes me nervous, putting a big stain on my fantasies. I am sure he can feel my heart hammering against his bare chest.

"It's a shite hole" he says

"Yes but it's our shit hole" I answer.

He make an odd face "its neutral ground love" he says "and technically its closer to Mal's turf".

The mention of her, here, with him, like this makes me uneasy, knowing how she shattered his hart less than a month ago and how we had to fish him out of the bottom of a bottle. I feel like she taints my space with him without even being here and he sees that. So he does what he does best and take my breath away.

His hand is digging in my bright hair and he pulls me closer so him, pulling a bit on my hair to make sure I have his undivided attention. He doesn't need to tell me twice. Bringing my lips to his I kiss him hungrily and he smiles into my lips in satisfaction. His other arm wraps around my waist tightly as he deepens the kiss. This is true bliss. Having those strong arms around me, those perfect lips all to myself. Having him is a place where I know no father's or captains will come are take him away from me. True bliss for weeks now and I just can't get enough of him.

I moan softly as he gives my bottom lip a playful bite with his canines. Not enough to hurt. Enough to remind me that it could hurt- and I would bloody love it... It's this teasing; the way he fucks on the line between pain and pleasure that makes me go crazy for this man. I grow tired of this lazy morning positioning and I saddle him instead, hips on either side of his pelvis. I give him a light rock with my hips and he moans softly into my mouth. Tearing his lips from mine to kiss up my neck. My jaw line. My earlobe. Nibbling softly as he does. I give myself completely to the sensation of him and take a deep breath of his scent.

Harry always smells like the ocean. now he also smells like sweat and this attic, morning breath, and me.

It's not a good smell by any account but it so HIM that in turns me on even more and makes me press my chest closer to him and reach for this messy dark hair. I give it a yank and take control again of those wicked lips.

Certain hardness in his shorts tells that he is willing and ready to go. As he reaches down to grab my ass tightly I realize that it's either I get out of here now- or I would have some very awkward explanations to make to my father.

I push against him and he gives a frustrated moan that nearly breaks my resolve. Damn it's hard to leave him looking like this.

"Summoning" I say as I skitter out of the bed and start searching for wherever the hell my clothes landed last night.

"Tease" he grunts "Teasing bloody minx".

"Midnight at Boogie's! I'll make it up to you!"

That night turn out to not be everything I planned.

As I rush outside of Boggie's den and lean against the ally's crumbling wall I wonder why the hell did I think it was a good idea. and how the fuck did I get from nearly having a wonderful morning fuck to… to this.

The door bursts open, letting the sound of heavy bass and drunken laughter escape into the night. Harry runs after me into the cold.

"Sem!" he calls as he rushes to me. He finds me with my back to the wall, still clutching my drink, eye as cold as steal. I say nothing. He reaches a hand to touch my cheek and by the gods I want to just give in and let it all go. I want to take him home and fuck him senseless… but I can't. I can't unsee what I just saw. what I just figured out. I can't let myself be used. No matter how good the using feels. There is a gaping hole where the warm corner of my heart was this morning and I want him to prove to me that I am imagining things. I need him to prove me wrong.

I slap his hand away from my face. My heart is hammering and I feel as if every fiber of my being is taut to its snapping point. It feels like just a little push and my head would explode into flame like my father's.

"Am I a rebound?" I ask. There is no point beating around the bush. As I look at him square in the eye I can see just how off guard this question caught him. His mouth closes, opens again as he looks for an answer.

"W, what?" he stammers

I am so not in the mood for him playing the idiot "A rebound harry- a person you use to get over a breakup-"

"Yes I know what a sodding rebound is Sem" he lashes

"So am I?!" I yell.

I can still see it. I can still see him by the back room, Mal pressed against him, one leg presses between his. She corners him and he… he looks happy as his hand reaches into her hair just as it reached into mine this morning. She glances at me and smiles and I know she does it simply because she can and it's easy and she is drunk on power and alcohol.

She is an apex predator among villains, takes what she wants simply because she can. I want to lash out at her right there and then. I left my deggers at the entry but I can see at least five different tools around me I could use to open a few new holes in her. I catch myself before I can though, looking around I see that in the club right now her gang out numbers mines. If I have a go at her- I may finish this night with more things broken than a heart. So I wait, force myself to keep looking, and when I am sure he's seen me – I turn slowly and rush off. And now here we are.

The fact the he averts his gaze and looks away is enough. He might as well has slapped me in the face and screamed it but I am not satisfied. By hands shake on my beer bottle, knuckles white, angry tears throbbing behind my eyes.

"Fucking be a man and look at me" I snarl. So he does. And somehow that makes everything even worst. Because he has the audacity to look hurt.

"I'm sorry" he says.

And I into flame. No, my hair is still very much normal and blond and not made of living fire. But all I see is red.

"You little shit!" I scream and slam the bottle against the wall, fashioning myself a weapon of drunken heartbreak.

When I stumble home later that night, broken and bleeding the thing that makes the pain worse is the wind.

It's a western wind; it carries with it salt that burns my eyes and my wounds. It carries with it the smell of the ocean. The smell of Harry.

I have to find a way to get that smell out of my head. I have to wake up.

I wake up with a jolt. Air feels my lungs and it feels as though I haven't breather in hours. No- it's like I have never breathed in my life. With every heavy breath of air I feel more awake and more alive. The numbness and the pain from before are gone, replaced with a feeling of clarity like I have never felt before. It's intoxicating.

"Wow easy there" says harry, and all of a sudden I know why his scent was stuck in my nose when I was out.

He holds me close to his chest, leaning on the edge of our small boat. He looks agitated, almost concerned. He must have caught me when I passed out.

"How do you feel?" asks Gill. now on him concern is as easy to read as all of his other emotions. He hands me one of our fresh water containers. I reach for it but as I take a small sip of chilly water I understand that I am not thirsty. Nothing hurts. In fact- I have never felt better.

I look to Uma "what happened to me?" I ask

"Don't know" she says "I mean, I felt a bit queasy when I crossed last time but nothing like this"

I take another small sip of the water and think it through. Looking back- it felt like a rush of blood to the brain, the kind you might get while getting up to fast from lying down. But I was still before and after my collapse, the only thing that changed was-

"It's the magic" I say "there is magic in the air".

"Well I'm not sure I would go that far" harry teases from behind me. I groan and shuffle roughly out of him arms. It's colder this way, but less obnoxious.

Uma looks unconvinced "yeah, but I am a magic user and I didn't-"

"That's the thing!" I cut her "I think you and your mom are magic users… I mean… think about my dad! Being away from magic did him and your mom-" I don't need to explain further. She knows that her mother is far from the demigoddess she used to be, she is ill most of the time and grows weaker by the year.

Uma seems to consider the idea "so what you are saying is that you caught a… what?"

"Magic overdose?" I suggest, unable to find a better term for this strange feeling.

she barks out a laugh "nice. So much for saying you can't do magic"

"Technically she hasn't done anything" says Gill "she just breathed it and passed out".

Harry groans "for fuck's sake Gill" he mutters.

I look at my cousin. She raises a single eyebrow and smiles as me with the best kind of malice.

"Shall we?" she asks.

I return a grin "after you captain".

We practiced this countless times over the past week- how we would use magic to get away from the isle. But as we all get in position I find that practicing something in theory could never prepare you to the anticipation , the nerves, and the 'oh god what if nothing happens' feeling of it.

Gill opens out single small sail, holding the ropes tightly to adjust it if need be. I am stationed behind it at the back of the boat, Harry beside me on the floor as he holds a stirring rod. Uma stands at the very nose. Right now she leans over the side and touches her hand to the water. We are all ready, and silent, and waiting for her to do her thing.

She starts with making circular movements with her fingertips in the water, humming softly as she does. It's an old sailor's song she heard once as a child. It's not a spell from a book or some old scripture- she doesn't need it to be. The words or the music are but tools for the magic to follow as she guides it. And it does. Slowly at first, the water around her fingers rises in like mist. Then as her movement becomes larger, the circles bigger, the mist thickens. It takes her about two minutes to cover us, and most of the shore behind us in thick, heavy, mist. I can make out the lights of Auradon in the distance but nothing else. We have become invisible in the cloud of mist that surrounds us.

"All yours" she says. I swear it sounds like a challenge. One I am not going to lose.

I stand behind the sail, steady as I can in the softly rocking waves, and I close my eyes.

I reach out with my mind to the air around me, looking, trying to feel the threads my father talked of. The treads of my friends' lives, the threads of the air, of the water, of the boat.

"When you will see and feel them you will realize you can do anything" he used to say "you can pull things out of thin air. You can do what needs to be done".

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, letting this living air, so rich with magic and wonder fill me to the brim.

And there they are.

I can't see them but I can feel them around me. Threads, connections, paths. The way the boat connects to the water that connect to the shore that connect to the land-

I could follow them forever. I could follow them all the way to the stars and the sun and the moon and even then I wouldn't have uncovered any of them. And they are so beautiful. Everything is so magnificent out here and I don't think I will ever have enough time to-

" _Magic is messy, if you don't tell it where to go or have a good enough spell it will take you with it and you won't like where you end up"_

Oh, so this is what he meant.

I can feel the magic in me and out of me pushing and pulling at me. I almost let it take me away and I would have loved to see where. There is a part of me, a childish curiosity that yearns to know what would happen if I simply let go.

But this is not the time to answer this question.

I reach out into the space and the air and the magic around me and pull. Just a handful of threads in my hand, manifestations of the air around me in a way that my mind can grasp. I hold to it and I will it to move, to blow, to push us forward.

At first nothing happened. At first it feels like trying to push a crate that had no wheels. I can feel sweat gathering on my brow as fight to keep control.

Another tug, softer this time. Air is light and willful. Another tug. It's like a bubbling laughe .one final tug. It's like a dance.

I throw my hand up in a dance like movement, my back arches forward as I pull with me the night's air around us. then, throw them forward all forward, my hands, my back, and the air- letting out the breath I didn't know I was holding.

It reacts instantly.

The sail inflates with the sudden burst of air and the boat shoots forward.

I stumble back, balance lost at the sheer force of our movement but I am caught in the last moment. Harry extends a string arm, supporting to small of my back and pushes me back to my feet.

He is laughing.

They all are. We are roaring and laughing and throwing our fists into the air as we fly though the night, carried on my borrowed wind, hidden by Uma's mist.

I don't have a word for this feeling. It's the feeling of opening a window of a dusty room to a clear morning. It's feeling for a shot burning its way to your stomach. It's the feeling of jumping into the water on the hottest day of summer. It's the feeling of breaking apart in bliss at the arms of a lover.

It's freedom. It's pure, untainted, intoxicating, exhilarating- freedom.

I don't want it to ever end.

The wind pushes through me into the sail, carrying us forward. Harry by my side with wild eyes and a wide grin stirring us across the water, flying us in between the waves. Gill, his muscled arms tense as he fights to hold the sail and harness the wind I direct. And Uma, one hand touching the water as she rides the waves, swirling thick clouds of mist all around us.

We quite our cheering and roaring as we cross the halfway point to Auradon. Uma directs us all around the cliffs and away from the school, further into the shore and we follow her command.

By now I feel calmer, a silly smile frozen to my face and I don't think the could would let me erase it if I wanted to. My clothes are damp from the spray of the waves and the thick mist. A quick glance at the other shows that they are not much better.

Eventually our sail comes to an end, as Uma marks for me to let the wind go and I drop my arms and release the threads. We slow down immediately.

I sit down beside harry and wait in silence for the others to finish landing us safely. I am exhausted. My first attempt at magic has left me breathless and glowing, face flushed and teary eyed.

"Nice one" Harry mumbles from beside me. I look at him and see that he has the same exhilarated glow about him. I guess riding the tides freely like this is the sort of magic he has been missing. The magic he has been deprived of all those years and now finally he gets a taste of it.

"Thanks" I whisper.

We make the rest of the sail as quietly as we can nothing but the sound of waves and th water brushing against our small boat. Uma directs us to a shore not too far from the school; it's full of white sand and carries on until in stops at a high white cliff. It's comepletely abandoned, and the undisturbed sand and sea shells that dot the water line tell me it has been abandoned for a long time. I imagine this would be why she chose this place- with those cliffs and the climbs to get here I can't see any soft Auradonians making the trip here anytime soon.

We take the boat as deep into the shore as we can, and when it grind on the sand at the bottom we jump off and pull it on by foot. It's a heavy load to carry but between the four of us we manage to land it away from the water and the reach of the tide, deep enough into land to be easily spotted.

Then, we all crash to the ground.

I am not sure why we do it, it sort of seemed like the most logical thing to do. After all the preparation and the mad ride here- to fall to our knees and bury our hands in the soft sand as we lay in it. It seems like the only thing to do. After longing to do this for so long here we are.

We are really in Auradon.

I flip to my back and look up at the star, familiar and bright above us. We lie there in silence for a few moments, nothing but the sound of our heavy breaths and the waves. It's so damn peaceful I feel like I could fall asleep right here.

"Come on" Uma says as she rises to her feet.

"where?" I ask, rising and prepping myself on my elbows to look at her.

"We should find my cave from last time and catch some sleep" she offers me her hand, I take it and she pulls me to my feet "tomorrow we raise hell"

 _Thank you very much for reading_

 _this one came forward a bit slower not because it wasn't ready but because I have this rule that I will only publish a chapter once I have two other chapters ready to be published after editing._

 _also it's been a mad week._

 _till next time!_


	7. Chapter 7 - The Way Home

**Authors Note:**

 _I'm sorry this took forever! I'll try to be quicker in the future._

 _this one come with a song, as usual._

 _When the Chips are Down - Hadestown (srsly it's an incredible concept album and I use it SO MUCH for inspiration of the underworld)_

 **Chapter 7: the way home.**

Uma leads us to the cave where she hid after the cotillion, the one where she waited to the opportunity to swim across and reunite with her crew at the next opportunity to slip through the barrier.

As soon as I see it I know it's no wonder she wasn't caught- the place to small, dark, and encompassed almost entirely in the rock of the cliff. It's not comfortable in any way, and there is barely enough space for the four of us to sleep comfortably- but it's hidden, dry, and the close proximity to the others makes it warm enough to sleep in.

Or at least to try and sleep.

Gil volunteers to take the first watch of the night and I the second. I sleep close enough to the cave mouth to be easily accessible when his two hours of the watch are done and I am to take over.

In the end, he doesn't even need to wake me up.

I spend those two hours wide awake, looking out at the patch of night sky visible from the cave's mouth and trying to quiet my restless thoughts. To say that my mind is all over the space would be an understatement.

I think of the tomorrow's ritual. I think of what would happen if nothing comes forward, and even more terrifying- what happens if it does?

How do I lead an army? How do I stand and command with confidence when I have never felt less confident in my life?

Before my father became sick, before I had to leave the crew to take care of him around the clock I would be a spy and a scout. I would be the creature that hides in dark corners and creeps to learn all your moves. I would be the thing that comes out of those shadows and presses a blade to your throats. I would be the wind that flies in an out of your house- leaving a threatening note from the crew in its wake. If Uma was the head of the crew, the glorious leader bathed in the spotlight and sure of herself- than I was its shadow.

My work was good. It was important- I had no doubts about that. But a shadow couldn't lead an army, not if it wanted to be obeyed.

My father was made of shadow, but he wasn't one. He pretended well enough, smiled and flattered, attended parties and baby showers, all to avert suspicion from himself. He did that for thousands of years, while he schemed and plotted the plan that nearly won him Olympus (only to be brought down by not killing a baby himself). He embraced the shadow, but he wasn't one. Not truly.

Me?

I guarded myself my whole life. I never let anyone see my weakness of my tears; I never let them know about my fears and desires. And as a result no one trusted or cared for me. The only one who did know was Uma, whom I came to trust over the years due the bond between us- a bond made by blood and strengthened by friendship. Only she knew all that I dared not tell anyone. For the longest time only she knew that I used to wish for my mother's magic as a child- to rule spring and make flowers blood as I walked. She knew I as in love with Harry long before he gave me a shot. She knew I dreamed, more the anything, to see a firework show up close. She knew my secrets and let me know hers. It was worth it. Only ones did I let someone accept her see me this unguarded- with Harry. And that didn't end well for any of us. Yes. My father was just pretending to be a being of shadows. As I lied awake there in the cave before my watch I was starting to fear that maybe I truly was one.

"Sem?" Gill whispers as he touched my shoulder softly. He didn't need to wake me. I was wide awake.

I get up from my place on the cave floor and smile at him, "is it time?" I ask

"Yeah" he says and hands me the clock he used to tell the time. It's Harry's clock, I notice with surprise.

"Thanks" I say as I take it. Shuffling as quietly as I can to take his spot on the watch

"Are you alright?"

I turn and look at him with surprise. I am not, that's for sure, but how the hell could he tell that- he is hardly the susceptive sort.

"Yeah" I say casually "it's just hard to sleep here"

"Ok" he says. He groans a bit as he tries to find a comfortable spot on the floor. Silence takes over the cave once more; I stare out at the shore and listen to the waves when suddenly-

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

I look at Gill in surprise. He doesn't look at me, his head in the cradle of his palms he looks to the cave's sealing.

"No" I shrug, but that feels so fake that I am sure even he can read through it so I add "Why do you ask"

"Because I am" he says with truthfulness that makes me regret lying. Damn him and this weird nature of his. Sometimes I wonder where the hell does it come from, this behavior that is so much like genuine kindness. He would be dead on the isle tan times over if he wasn't also so damn good in a fight.

"Me too, I guess" I say after another silence. This time there is no reply. I figure he just fell asleep. I sigh deeply and open the watch to take the time, make a mental note to wake up Harry in another two hours as I settle down in a more comfortable position for my watch.

We sleep in late this morning. Making sure everyone is feeling lively and ready to work as soon as the sun sets later that night. It's one of the points my father was always specific about- summoning the dead is to be done away in the dark, the witching hour, midnight and the first hour after sunset being the most powerful options to choose from. I decide to go for the earliest option for two reasons- the first is that I am nervous and eager to get this over and done with as soon as I can; the second is so that I have two extra time windows to try again in case the ritual fails.

The ritual of summoning itself would be unbearably complicated if I haven't had a solid proof last night that I can, in fact, do magic. Now that I know that magic works as I tell it to and that it operates in the way that my father always promised it would, the ritual itself boils down to some very simple compartments.

The first two we brought with us from the isle, the first one was a thick red paste made of muddy earth, blood and the ashes of my father's own funeral pyre (or as much as w could actually gather from the shore the next morning). That would be used for me to draw the gateway, to door in the wall through which my army would march.

The second bit if the ritual we brought from the island was harder to come by, and took bribing, stealing and breaking into every the lab of every potions master in town.

On an island populated by evil masterminds and their minions there was luckily a large selection to choose from. In the end we found our prize in Maleficent's old castle, back in the area that used to be the town's centre back when the high queen of evil was the biggest authority on the island. Back before (according to rumor) she got herself turned into a gecko. But I digress. The bit we stashed away from her stores was several old bundles of dried asphodel- the flower used in the days of old to call on favors from my father and offered to him as token of respect. My father always said the dead liked the smell. Personally I can't smell anything from these old wreaths and I hope against all hope that they have some shred of magic left in them after all those years.

The rest of the ingredients can be gathered around us- blood, water, earth.

After we fill our "summon an unholy army of the dead" check list the rest of the day goes by slowly but calmly. I manage to catch an extra two hours of sleep as Gill lights a small fire. Harry paces like a cages animal around us, only to be partially distracted when Uma returns from the water with fish for lunch.

It's so calm and peaceful out here it's almost easy to forget that we are planning an invasion inside an enemy territory. I sit by the flames, leaning casually on my cousin's shoulder and calmly warming my feet.  
I try to think if this is how kids in Auradon spend their autumn nights, with friends, with a full stomach, and without a care in the world. I think of the large rooms and the servants, the clean water at every tap. I think of the fact that the children of magical creatures such as the fairy godmother and the genie will never know the suffocating feeling of breathing air without magic. Just as I never knew the freedom of breathing in air that is rich with it.

The isle is barely visible from where we set our little camp. I can see the edge of the perpetual dark clouds above it and I think of how our family is spending their evening. In decaying buildings, eating rotting food and sleeping with a blade.

The unfairness of it boils by blood.

"It's almost time" I say, drawing the other's attention to me. They stare at me- as serious as the grave.

"You sure?" asks Uma, she places a soft hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently.

"No" I admit "but I won't be any more sure at midnight.

The others stand on the shore in a safe distance from me. They would have stood closer, but I directed them to stand far enough to run away if something unexpected rushes through once the door in open.

With the color Uma and I created I mark an oval shape on the cliff wall, making sure that it's hidden from direct reach of moonlight. The dead scorn the light, he told me once, that's why in the underworld the only flowers and night bloomers.

Then, I crush into a bowl the dried flowers and light them with a match. The spicy, earthy, smell fills the air around me. I place the bowl in front of the gate- to lead them out.

The last piece of the ritual is rather simply- it's me. I take my blade to my palm and make a cut across it, clutching and flexing it to force the blood to flow.

I place my palm on my would be door and reach out.

This time I find the threads of magic around me immediately. The connection is so instantaneous I wonder how the hell did it take me so long to establish. I grin to myself.

Maybe it's like one of those doors that once you have seen once- you will never miss again.

I reach out further, deeper, following thread after thread as I try to find my home, my kingdom, the underworld.

I follow from my threads, my body, my mind. My blood- into the cliff. From the cliff I follow deeper and deeper. Layers upon layers of ground and soil. I keep the scent of the burning flowers and the pain in my palm as my anchors to my body and this part of the world as I travel deeper and deeper into the earth. I follow underground rivers and the boil of the earth under my feet.

"Come to me" I whisper "show me the way home. Come to me. Come to your queen"

And the threads lead on. Deeper. Until there is nowhere deeper to go. And there they are.

"What queen?"

I hear a croaking voice in the darkness. An ancient ,dry, thing that echoes in a space much larger than this.

I open my eyes.

In front of me, the door is open. The cliff's wall is gone and I can clearly see a room somewhere else. But I am not quite sure if it's the underworld. It doesn't look like anything my father has ever described. There is no river of souls, no looming towers, no castle. It's look like nowhere.

It may sounds like I am describing a place that is forgotten or empty or unrecognizable (and in a way I am) but it's also- simply not a place. I can't see any features of the room. If it is a room. I can't see anything but a vast endless purple haze.

The women… no. the creatures in front of me are dark, monstrous and old. They are as old as time and maybe older. The small one, a fat purple shaded thing, stares at me with a single large eye. The others are looking at me with dark gaping holes in their faces, and I have no doubt they can see me just as clearly. After all- they already have.

"The fates" I whisper.

I can't believe they are here.

Clotho the spinner, Lachesis the weaver, and Atropos the cutter. They were there before the gods and they will be there long after. They will be here to turn up the chairs and switch of the light on the universe after everything that ever was has perished. They are without end and without beginning. My own father feared and respected them as he sleeked their counsel. And now they are here- talking to me.

Honestly I am feeling a little star struck.

"H,hello" I stammer "I am-"

"Semele" they cut me in unison "we know"

Yeah, I should have known that they would. I assume that there is no reason to introduce myself or my crew any further so I just stand there, dumbstruck as I try to figure out what to say that they do not already know. Try to outsmart fate. Nice one Semele.

"You called" the short one says impatiently

"Well I tried to call-"

"An army, we know" says the tall one, I am not sure which one is which "a bit presumptuous of you".

It feels like a scolding from a teacher and I am not entirely sure how I found myself in this position so I stand straighter and say coolly "I am the queen of the underworld. They are mine to command". I sound way more sure than I actually am. I wonder if my father would have been proud. The fates, however, don't seem impressed.

They grin wickedly. It's a horryfying smile full of rotting teeth still sharp enough to tear flesh and skin.

"Do the dead know?" asks the short one with wicked delight.

"I- what?"

"The lord of the underworld is dead, it is true" says the middle one in something that might just be an honest attempt at softness

"We know child" says the tall one "because we know everything" she adds as she reaches with terrifying long talons into her sister's eye socket and retrieves the eye for herself. It take a great measure of self restraint. The middle one grunts in disapproval and with a swift movement snatches the eye back before her sister can set it to rest in her socket.

"but you have lived among the living all your life" she says her she turns the shared eye to look at me "how are the dead to know?"

I stare at them, dumbstruck, as I try to think of a good answer.

How were the dead to know? Did I assume that just because the title was free it will belong to me automatically? Or that the lands of the dead, who stood without a king for nineteen years, will randomly know that their rightful king is dead and they now belong o his daughter. The fact I thought it would be this simple infuriates me. I clutch my fists are frustration only to be reminded of the open cut is my palm. I suck in a sharp breath in pain and, to my annoyance it seems to amuse the fates. Their eyes (or… lack of) are staring right at me and they cackle in delight.

I am angry and frustrated enough that their laugh makes me want to cut the connection, but I still need some answered. So I let out a long breath to calm down my nerves and ask in my calmest, sweetest voice

"Ladies" I start "my fate is in your hands as is everyone's. What am I to do now?"

Their smiles, already wide and menacing, widen even further. It's a grotesque sight that would probably haunt my dreams that night.

"You seek a kingdom which is not yours yet" says the tall one

"If you want a throne you should come and claim it" says the middle one.

I look at the short one, she who could, if she thought me worthy, tell me my future. Her smirk is wide but her lips, so it would seem, are sealed.

"How do I get there?" I ask them.

"Stupid girl" says the tall one in frustration "you are wearing the map around your neck".

"My neck, what do you-" my fingers reach up and find the locket around my neck, the same locket that hasn't come off once since harry put it there yesterday. How was it a map?

"Come home and claim your crown little princess" says the short one mockingly "we will wait for you in the underworld"

"Why?" I find myself asking. It's not in their nature to be kind or giving, why would they bother to leave their home for me?

"They don't answer. Instead they laugh wickedly as the portal start to close in front of me.

"Wait!" I yell "how will I read the map?!"

"Try the starlight" says the middle one "your mother missed it when she was underground"

And with a final cruel whole of laughter, the portal snaps shut. And I am left of the beach- staring at the cliff's wall.

"So" says Uma as we sit later around the fire "you are not actually the queen of the underworld"

"Not yet" I say "not unless I go there and claim it. If I do that then I will be"

There is silence around the fire as we weighed our options. After the ritual was over and the portal closed I collapsed on the send, dropping t my knees with the exhaustion on holding a gateway to such a far off place for so long. The others brought me back in the cave and re-lit the fire. I told them all that the fates told me.

"I'm sorry Uma" I murmur. I can see the disappointment in her eyes as she stares into the flames. She went to the beach armed to the teeth and ready to wake war tonight. Instead she got another restless night in the cave that must hold nothing but feelings of bitter failure to her.

"It's not your fault" she sighs "you couldn't have known"

Her remark should make me feel better- but it doesn't. A part of me is aching for an argument, yearning for it. I want someone to lash at me and tell me it was absolutely pathetic just so I could scream at them that it's not my damn fault that my father kept such a vital piece of information to himself. I feel like frustration in coiling in me like a living thing. Frustration at myself for not doing better, at the fates for being too annoyingly cryptic, at my father for preparing me all my life but not preparing me enough at the same time. Anger is sleeping beast inside my belly and that if I don't let it out soon it will eat me whole. But now is not a good time. We are still in enemy territory.

"So what do we do now?" asks Gill. He and Harry look to Uma and me. Neither of us has an answer.

"Well we could go claim Sem's throne" says Harry. He is fidgeting with his pocket watch as he leans on the cave wall. I look to him in blunt surprise and he shrugs "you do want to go there don't ya?"

I do. More than anything. I want to see my father's home. As terrifying as it is I want to meet the fates face to face and try to wring more answers out of them. I want to go so badly I can almost feel the threads of magic pulling at my heart to go.

But I don't dare ask it of them. Such a diversion of the journey might take weeks and achieve little. After all our work to make such a wild detour seems absurd.

Uma looks to me "can I see that thing?" she asks and reaches with an open palm. I don't need to ask what she means. I take of the locket and hand it to her.

"Fancy" she says as the turns is gently in her hands "but sure don't look like a map"

"My dad made it so my mom could find her way home. It says so on the bottom, look" I turn the jewel in her hand to show her the inscription "the fates said something about starlight"

"Starlight?" asks Uma. I shrug in response. With restrained frustration she hands it back to me. I take it back and inspect it again.

"They said my mom missed the starlight when she was underground" I grunt.

"Did they tell you any specific constellations?" she tries, her mind going immediately to the same thing I thought- that it must me some sort of a star map.

"No, I think actual, non cryptic, answers are not really their style" I click on the crown of the fruit to open the locket. Inside is the picture of my parents on one side and the mirror on the other.

I look at them both, studying every detail, almost expecting the picture to speak and tell me what to do and where to go… he was good enough at doing that in life after all.

"Starlight" I mumble. I brush my thumb softly over the mirror. It's a reflective surface, damaged slightly with stains and scratches but still clear as crystal. It's made of a material I don't recognize- black and smooth and cold to the touch. I suppose the reason I thought of it as mirror despite the odd color it reflects my features back to me clearly. Golden eyes are staring back at me from it.

An idea strikes me out of nowhere and I jump to my feet at once.

"What's wrong?" asks Harry, his hand flies to his hook. He clearly interpreted my sudden movement wrongly and his first thought is that we are under attack. He is immediately ready to gut anything that might come into the cave.

I shake my head "just hold a moment" I say distractedly. I walk to the mouth of the cave, looking around until I find a hidden spot that has a clear view of the sky. When I find a good spot to stand, I open a locket again and turn it towards the sky- mirror facing the stars.

As first, nothing happens. The mirror reflects the night's sky and the constellations as clearly as it does anything else. I sigh, thinking I might have misunderstood the fate's clue

When suddenly the mirror come alive.

It still reflects the star, but now it multiplies them, creating an image that is as deep and dark as the ocean. It reflects more stars then there actually are in the sky right now, and when it runs out of space in itself it actually pours them out.

"Uma" I cry "Harry! Gill! Come quick!"

"What is it?" asks Uma. She is by my side in an instant.

"It's doing something" I mumble, so at awe with the mirror in the hand to contemplate the idiocy of my comment.

The others crowd around my and we all stare at the little ornament, as in reflects the night skies and spits it out. Tiny reflections of stars arrange themselves in mid air in front of the mirror, swirling around in a mesmerizing tempest of silvery light.

They keep spinning around as more and more specks of light join their numbers, until there is a little cloud of shimmering dots hovering in my hand. They dance around for another moment until, suddenly, they stop, as slowly as they emerged; they arrange themselves in a pattern. At first it makes no sense at all until finally, as promised, I can make out a map. A map of her beloved stars to guide her home. Who know my father was such a romantic?

The isle, Auradon, the rest of the ocean and the land, they are all clear and shimmering as they hover above my open palm.

A single red stars is twinkling on the shore of Auradon "that's us" I whisper

"So that would mean that this" says Uma as she points at another purple shades dot "is the underworld". It's far. But not unreachable.

We stare at the map for a moment that feels like eternity. I have no doubt that Uma already maps in her head the implications of the journey suggested by the map of star in my hand. I look to her, trying to net let the pleading and hope show as I await her decision. She is my captain and as such she should prefer the mission above all else. But she is also my cousin and my friend… I dare not hope and yet.

Finally she lets out a big sigh and gestures to her first mate to come closer

"What do you think?" He muses, casually leaning his elbow on her shoulder in a gesture of fondness and familiarity.

"I think" she sighs "that we are going to need a bigger boat".

 _Authors note!_

 _I know I know this one took ages..._

 _truth is it was good and ready to go but I am a bit stuck with the one after the next._

 _I WILL FINISH THIS FIC!_

 _srsly I've seen a show about Hades and Persephone i a fringe festival yesterdy and it made me all sparkly eyed about greek mythology again so yeah..._


	8. Chapter 8 - Only the Wind

Chapter 8: Only the Wind

 _Authors note:_

 _as my own personal apology for taking so long with the previous one- here is an extra long chapter!_

 _because it has a couple of themes to it -I couldn't_ _settle_ _on a single song. I am torn between these two:  
I'm the one- Jeff Williams (ft. Casey Lee Williams)  
Oblivion- M83 (ft Susanne Sunford)_

 _hope you enjoy_

* * *

Later that night we set out to do what pirates are suppose to do best (accept rape, pillage, and plunder).

We sneak on our little boat further into Auradon coastal territory to steal a bigger boat.

This time I summon a quite, soft, wind to move us along, and then join Uma to bring forward a much, much, bigger mist. In order for this to work we will have to make it the kind of night where you wouldn't be outside unless you absolutely had to. We don't have time to improvise summoning rain- so our trusty mist and winds will have to do. With a chill and a fog so thick to dampen our clothes- I think we did pretty well.

We sail quietly and discreetly near the shore- in search of a some vessel, any vessel, that could take us the rest of the way. It takes us an hour to reach what looks like a private harbor. Beyond the rock barrier separating it from the wrath of the open sea there is a row of elegant vessels docked neatly together. This must be where some of those bastards keep their yachts.

"Stop!" Uma hisses and I kill the wind instantly. Our prize awaits behind that rocky sea wall.

There is something about these vessels, all white and elegant and more expensive than I can conceive, that makes me want to laugh. All the tools to travel the world and the freedom to do so and yet it's clear from the clean look of that boats no one ever took this opportunity with them. I couldn't be happier that we would be taking this vessels out of their misery.

I look into the docks but under the guise of mist I can see nothing but the big and obvious.

"Can you see any guards?" Harry asks. His and Gill's approach would probably be to rush in there, take a boat, and hope he could do it before they could load their guns. But neither I nor Uma are happy for such risks just yet.

"How close can you get us?" I ask Uma

"I can go full kraken on this dock but I don't wanna risk it in case they have a platoon there" she hisses.

A platoon is unlikely, but I see her point. I don't ask her to remove the mist either for the same reason.

So I decide to take a new approach.

Closing my eyes, I reach with my mind to the dock in front of me. After reaching all the way to the underworld earlier tonight this feels as quick as taking a step out of one's house.

I feel for the threads around me.

The immediate ones that come the mind are the ones I used before. My mind find them out of habit more than anything. Immediately I find the wind and the air, the water and the mist. But I force myself to look differently.

I look for heartbeats. I look for the puffs of hot air as they leave someone's lungs.

"Two guards" I mumble, still reaching through the eather to try and find something I missed "one at the near end, he has a gun. The other near the entry from land … he is armed but I don't know what with"

When I open my eyes I see Gill and Harry looking at me with bewilderment. Uma on the other hand doesn't seem at all surprised.

"Ok, this is what we're gonna do, Gill and Harry, I take you to the dock through the water, you get rid of the guards-"

" Why not just do it yourself?" I ask Uma "you drown one to the deep, I'll slit the throat of the other, we'll be out before you know it". Sending Harry and Gill seems ironically merciful. The two are brutal but on a quick attack like this they aren't very likely to actually kill anyone. My fingers hover around my daggers, itching for any excuse to draw and go to work. I feel restless and eager to do some wrong by Auradon. Some recompense for my inability to do anything useful for the war tonight. I feel more on edge that I have in a very long time.

Uma just stares at me silently, Her brow is furrowed "Sem how many murders do you suppose the Auradon guards had to deal with for the past decade or so?"

"Well that really depends-" Gill starts but a raised hand from Uma silences him instantly. She waits, not breaking eye contact, for my answer.

It's a dare.

She needs to make sure I understand the meaning of a dead body suddenly floating later this week. What it would mean for the rest of this operation. She is right. I know she is.

If a dead body floated in the dock or drags back to shore later this week while we are out at sea- by the time we get back security would have tripled. I couldn't vouch for any petty thefts and other random acts of crime- but two guards turning up dead will alert them that something is going on. It would make things way more complicated later on. She is right. And the most annoying thing is that I should have known better than suggest murder for the sake of my own fraying nerves. I should have been the cold and calculated one.

"None" I say finally "we shouldn't alert suspicion"

She smiles and reaches to give my arm a friendly squeeze.

"There will be time to repay them later" she promises.

I wish I could say that it was just bloodlust and need for vengeance that spoke out of me before but the truth is- I don't know where it came from. I was never brutal of blood thirsty. That was more Harry's game than mine. I maimed and hurt others quickly and neatly, often preferring to avoid murder in favor of letting the other know they owe me their life for my mercy. The 'could if I wanted to' approach. But now? This?

I smile back at Uma "right. So I guess you and I do the actual stealing"

She grins back at me "should be like taking a candy from a baby"

* * *

First thing first Uma slips into the water and disappears. She leaves her hat with me and her sword and bag with Harry.

"Where is she going?" Harry mumbles

"To change probably" I whisper back.

He looks at me in confusion for a moment and then, after I raise an eyebrow at him, he seems to get the message. All three of us are looking eagerly after her. The bright color of her braids is all we can see. And then it's lost as well in the darkness of the water.

When we were children all of our parents had little ways to keep us in line, most parents stuck to beating or cursing, occasionally preventing food of locking us outside at night (I hear that Doctor Facilier once locked his girl Freddy in his special closet in the basement for a whole night. When she came out she was as white as a black girl can be. She didn't speak for nearly a week).

Aunt Ursula was unique is her approach to education, in the sense that is taught Uma more than just 'stay in line or don't get caught'. Aunt Ursula's approach every time her daughter was sassy, or disobedient, or simply when she didn't want to see her- was to throw her out of the window and into the sea.

Uma learned to swim by trying her best not to drown. She learned it at a very young age. Now she was as easy and calm in water as she was on land- perhaps even more so.

We don't bother counting the seconds she has been under, knowing that if being tossed into the water of the isle in a stormy December didn't kill her- this definitely won't.

After a couple of minutes she rises, and it's possible the most amazing thing I have ever seen.

The only way I have ever seen Aunt Ursula was in the sorry state she arrived to after living for a over a decade on the isle. I have seen her fat and lazy, her once strong limbs pale and weak looking. She, like my father, has been deprived of all that gave her power. She was deprived of the magic that lived at the bottom of the ocean, the winds on the open sea, the fear of the sailors of what might lurk in the deep. Once, she was a demigoddess, now she was a housebound sea witch with no magic.

Looking at Uma now, I can imagine how terrifying and glorious my aunt Ursula must have been once. She stands tall and strong, her braids wet from the sea water framing her face and falling about her shoulders. Her tentacles are jet black and they shimmer as they appear from under her, waving about silently to keep her afloat. It's strange to think of them as a part of her and yet they are as elegant and strong as she is. My cousin has become the things that sailors speak about is hushed tones when they want to tell horror stories. She is the stuff of nightmares. I love her so much.

"You can close your mouth now" she says with a smirk. She wasn't talking to me. I look to the boys and see that they too are staring at her with mouths wide open.

I shut mine just to be on the safe side.

"Sem' you go first, if I'll leave you by the anchor you can climb up right?" she whispers as she offers me a hand to help me of the boat. I take it and drop as quietly as I get, stifling a yelp at the cold of the water and the strange sensation of her. Two strong limbs wrap around me and suddenly I feel an urge to fight them- a primordial fear from the primal side of my brain that yells at me to fight the slick long force that grabs at me from the dark of the deep.

I need to take a deep breath and remind myself to keep calm, that it's just her.

"You good?" she asks and I realize I have been squeezing my hand tightly all along.

"Yeah" I say and she nods.

"Take a deep breath" she says,and once she is sure I'm ready- we dive.

The pressure of water push against me with unbelievable force as Uma swims, as fast as a bullet through the water. I need to cover my mouth and nose to keep myself from releasing the air I am holding. It feels like I am a dead leaf being washed down in the drain. It feels like drowning. I close my eyes and concentrate on the terrifying yet oddly comforting feeling of those mythical limbs around me. Holding me safe. Knowing that she won't let me drown.

I am sure it doesn't take us longer than a few second to make it across and yet it feel like I have been there forever.

Just as soon as we went under Uma brings me back to the surface.

She says nothing, just brings a finger to her mouth and leaves me holding to the chain on the anchor by the yacht she chose.

From where I hang at the bottom of it looks like all the others- a white elegant vessel with tall mast. It's much bigger than our little boat, I estimate it's almost 70 feet across and it's going to have to do.

Slowly, keeping an eye on for any nosy guards- I start to climb.

Compared to the draining lines and rotting pipes of the isle climbing up this chain is basically going up a well built ladder. I reach the edge of the boat and carefully climb over and roll on the deck silently.

I stay low, find the cockpit in the upper deck and as silently as a shadow- start making my way.

I hear a stifled yell and a sound of something blunt and painful hitting something crunchy and unsuspecting. The boys made it.

I risk a pick over the board of the ship and catch a glimpse of what it looks like when the seas spits out a nightmare.

Using a lift from Uma Harry lands heavily on the deck behind the guard and charges before he has time to even look. With a brutal hit of his elbow he knocks the man down and follows with the oar from the boat- using it like a bat to hit the man in the head and render him unconscious. The whole attack took less than 5 seconds.

Gods, I missed watching him work.

Having heard both of the guards are out I rise to my feet and start prepping the boat to sail.

Two terrible limbs rise from the water and lift Uma on deck.

"Lower the ramp" she orders and I rush to the back of the boat to obey. As soon as I do the boys rush onto the boat. To my surprise they are smelling like alcohol.

"What gives" I say, wrinkling my nose at the scent.

Harry simply smiles wickedly and point to where they left the guards. The two man have left leaning by each other near the guards post, a bottle of alcohol spilled in them and resting their lap. Even if their superiors won't believe they were drinking- it would surely make their story of being attacked less credible.

"Nice one" I say as I follow them back to the upper deck.

As soon as we reach the upper deck Harry and Gill spring into well practiced action. Harry runs up the small mast as though he has hooks on his toes, grabbing a rope and jumping down, the sail opens like a bird's wing in his wake. Gill runs to lift the anchor but a quick shout from Uma tells him that it's all automatic and he should help Harry prep sails.

Him and harry have the boat ready to go within less than a minute, and I find my head is spinning just trying to keep up with their rapid movements.

"Sem! Get us out of here!" Uma orders.

Fucking finally- something to do. I pull at the wind so hard I am nearly lose my balance, throwing it forward and taking us out of the harbor. It moans and shrieks and I can feel it within me as I use my body to channel it through. The sails inflate and the whole yacht rocks forward and out. Uma at the helm- we start our way to the land of the dead.

* * *

We don't sleep that night.

We are all too agitated and wild with adrenaline to settle down so we take to exploring the yacht.

Uma stays at the helm, apparently the thought of relinquishing her spot as the captain of her new vessel hasn't even occurred to her. When I suggest that she get some rest and let someone else hold the fort for a bit she looks at me as though I offered her the chew on some broken glass.

With nothing else to do Harry Gill and I go to the lower deck to see what we can find.

The whole boat is built for comfort. Soft leather couches, a kitchenette bigger than the one we had in my apartment, a big bedroom and smaller one with a single bunk. A shower. A wine fridge. There is even a television.

"Rich bastards" Harry mutters whenever he finds a new feature of the place and I tend to agree with him. So much money and yet the place looks hardly used.

"I found food!" Gill yells from the kitchen "and more importantly!" I look to him and see that he is lifting a bottle of something he found in the wine fridge. An elongated bottle with some bright liquid inside.

"What's that?" I ask as I join him in the kitchen

"Looks like wine" he says and I grab the bottle to take a closer look.

"Champaign?" I muse, reading the label and not making sense of the word.

"Rich people's wine" Harry throws at us from his crouching spot under one of the cabinets. I assume from the grunting and clicking that he found a safe and would probably not leave it until it's cracked open. He is not very good at safe cracking, normally resorting to attempting to smash them. I look to Gill and he shrugs. Gill could be surprisingly good at these things, relying on keen hearing and wicked fingers to lead the way into a safe. I was could manage my way with a lock well enough. But right now neither of us is in the mood to argue that point with Harry. Instead we look around for any other useful stuff. My eyes fall on a small picture in a silver frame.

"Oh. My. Gods"

"What?" says Gill and walk over, he sees the photo and grabs it out of my hands before I have time to protest "Holly shit, are those?-"

"Yup" I say, now unable to stifle my laugh any longer. I giggle uncontrollably and Gill soon follows. This is just too good to be true.

"What is it?" asks Harry. He leaves his work and joins Gill and I behind the kitchen counter to inspect what we found. It's good he is so quick to see for himself because I don't think I can utter actual words for all this laughing.

In the picture is a blond woman with gentle face, a brunette man in a royal uniform, and their curly blond brat of a son. Harry looks as the photo, blinks, and then takes it from Gill for a closer look.

"Did we just steal Cinderella's yacht?"

* * *

We spend that evening celebrating.

Uma disappears once more into the ocean and returns on board with a fish large enough to feed four and Gill and I source out some rice and canned vegetables from the storage while harry stops the boat for the night.

We take one on the tablecloths and spread in on the upper deck to eat under a sky ,so full of stars it almost outshines our map.

"Ok! Rich people's wine!" Harry yells as he climbs up the ladder with the bottle Gill found before, and struggles his way to open the bottle that for some reason won't open like a normal wine, harry grunts and gives it a forceful yank that causes it to burst open with a loud popping sound. The precious drink gushes out and Harry tries to slurp as much as he can before passing the bottle to me.

I grin and take a hearty gulp of the wine, only to choke on it with surprise. The liquid tastes vaguely like wine, but the fizz catches me with a surprise that causes me to cough and laugh before taking another sip.

"Don't hoard it!" says Uma and grabs it away from me.

The whole bottle lasts barely half an hour between us, and the potency of it is a delightful surprise. We sit around the upper deck half lying down on the tablecloth, breathing in the free ocean wind and talking all sorts of nonsense. We talk about the boat, about the isle and what we plan to do when we win. We tease Gill for the mercilessly when I catch a blush creeping up his face at the mention of making King Ben wear a French maid outfit once we've won.

"Could be worst" I say finally only to get a surprised look from Harry and Uma "What! I saw him on the television! He is not bad looking for a beast!" at which point the teasing inevitably moves to me.

"Do you think he can shapeshift to?" asks Uma after a moment of silence and I look to her with raised eyebrows

"To? What do you mean to? Who else can shape shift?"

"Mal" she grunts "she turned into a dragon"

"Oh of course she fucking did" I sigh in frustration. Something about the idea of perfect Mal being able to turn into a dragon at will is so perfectly predictable and yet so completely annoying.

"Would make a nice pair of boots or a belt though" harry remarks and I notice he went back to polishing his old Hook.

"Is that supposed to be payback for when she used you as a footstool?" I bite with a wicked smile and the others erupt into mad laughter. Harry grins and jabs my shoulder hard enough for me to lose my balance and fall over from my sit and unto the blanket. I would never have worked if I wasn't so drunk which only causes the laughter around the deck to increase, with me joining in.

We spend another blissful hour laughing and making fun of each other and anyone who even wronged us. We laugh at everything, from Carlos's hair, to our awkward preteen years, to Auradon fashion. We finish off with hilariously detailed speculations of what Maleficent's life as a gecko.

Uma retires first, calming the master bedroom as the captain's cabin.

I follow after her with the food and dishes from upstairs and leave them in the sink. Afterwards I move to claim the other cabin by leaving my bag in there and spreading my knifes on the bed as a subtle warning to the boys.

On my way back up I notice two things;

The first- Gill has passed out on one of the sofas

The second- we are moving again.

I leave the inner deck cautiously to not wake Gill (although I highly doubt he would -even if I tried to wake him)

I see that Harry reopened the sail and that we are once again moving forward, swaying carefully on gentle waves. I look to the cockpit and I see him, holding the helm and smiling blissfully as we stirs us forward. There is something so peaceful, so RIGHT about seeing him that way that I can't help but smile.

"It suits you" I say as I draw neared, leaning casually on the board of the yacht as I watch him sail.

"It feels natural" he says and I have no doubts about it.

"She picked a good boat" I muse and he chuckles.

"Well, it's not exactly the Roger, and it's missing about six cannons" he says and I'm sure he can probably almost hear me rolling my eyes at that because the next thing I know is he bark up a laugh and says "I'm kidding. It's perfect".

We stay like this in silence for a long moment. Nothing but the waves and the wind and the sound of the sail as it catches a new gust of wind.

"I wish he could see me now" says harry suddenly. I turn my gaze to him and see that the easy content smile has been replaced by a melancholy sort of look.

He looks at his own hands as they hold tightly to the helm of the boat and i don't need to ask him who he means.

I feel the need to move closer to him. To place a hand on his shoulder in support or to touch his hand as it holds the helm by I don't. Touch is a strange thing between us. Once, when I was an early teenager and head over heels in love with him every casual touch would make my heart flutter like a caged bird. Every friendly hand on my shoulder, every accidental brush of his skin against mine

In those hazy weeks when he was mine his touch was a drug I couldn't get enough off. Touching him was familiar and welcome and the lack of him was as physically present as having him around.

After we broke each other his touch was like the graze of heated steel against me. It felt as though any accidental brush of him would cause my skin to blister and scar. And now?

I wasn't sure where we were now.

I still found him attractive- I would have to be insane not to. I thought enough water has gone under that bridge so that finally, FINALLY, he could be just another person who's touch was a casual thing. A part of me wanted to go back to what we were. Another part wanted a brand new page of friendship. Another part held on the grudge and the pain and refused to let go. But as I look at him now, wishing but unable to comfort him I realize that an ocean could cross under that bridge and I still wouldn't know what I wanted from this man. There was just so much to be had and to be lost. Too much love and poison and pain.

But he was here. Now. And he was sharing a piece of himself with me that I couldn't just drop into the ocean as though it meant nothing. I knew how hard for him it was to admit that sort of connection. I knew how hard it was for him that despite the drunken abuse and violence, despite the pathetic state of his ship and the rusty swords- Harry admired his father. The only thing to rival this admiration was his hunger to surpass his old man. To be greater. It cost him to say these things now. And despite everything that was between us I couldn't leave this show of trust unanswered.

"He will" I say finally, because I simply have to say something and because it is the truth. His father will see him helm a ship one day "after all- Someone will have to go over to free them all from the isle" I add and he smiles at me. It's the sort of rare genuine smile that reminds me of the boy he was once rather than the man he is now. I can't help but smile back. Suddenly he steppes away from the helm, casually leaving a light hand on it to keep it in place.

"Give it a go" he says, he's other hand is reached over to me. An open palm. An invitation. I hesitate. Not sure if I am weary of stirring the ship or of his hand  
"come on, Trust me"

I don't trust him. I did, once, and it hurt me so much I nearly burned my bridges with the crew. But I want to. I want to give him my trust again so much it's a physical pain in my chest. I want to trust him not only to have my back in battle, that much is easy, but to not tell anyone how he found me in the apartment just the other day. I want to trust him again with my dreams and my hopes. With my pain.  
I put my hand in his before I have time to think better about it. He smirks and gives it a light tug, pulling me to stand in front of the helm.

My palms find the wood, still warm from his hands on it just a moment ago. I clutch onto it tightly, nervous that a wild current might take us away and off course.

"Keep them light" Harry says.

He reaches his hand to mine and rests him large pals in mine, loosening my grip on the wheel's handles.

He is close behind me. I can feel the warmth of him as he hold my hands on the ship's helm. I realize a moment too late that I am leaning into that warmth. Into his strong chest and the steadiness of him behind me. It catches him by surprise, I notice, as I hear a light breath caught in his throat. But he doesn't move a muscle. He stays there, his chest to my back, his hand on mine. I decide it's probably safe to very carefully lean my head at the warm crook of his neck. He moves his head ever so slightly to give me more room and there i stay, engulfed in the familiar warmth of him. Being this close to him like this made me feel safe and warmed me to my core. A delightful heat between my legs I decided not to question. Not just yet when everything is so damn right with the world.

Before us the sky is a brilliant array of stars, below us the sea is as quiet and clear and a mirror's surface, reflecting the sky's brilliance back. It looks as though we stepped into the star map of the locket as we sail through this ocean of light together.

He doesn't lead me, not holding me or controlling my movements. It's the lightest of touches and a strange serenity that is completely unlike him. He feels so calm behind me. Harry is never calm, he is always moving of fidgeting with whatever he can find- his clock, his hook, other people. When we were together just lazing about in bed he would play with my hair, making knots or untangling old ones. even when he was quite there was a sense of unrest in him, an inferno that nothing could calm. Not sex, not alcohol, not a fight. But here, now, he is as quiet as the sea around him. And i find myself thinking that this is it, the same way I felt free and alive since the magic I didn't know I was missing was with me, this is what the ocean does to him. Not for the first time i smile in delight when I think that he must understand the wholeness I feel when I use my magic. He feels it out here. On a ship.

"It's your magic" I whisper, badly audible but he is so close now that I know he can hear me.

"What is?" he asks quietly, and I hold back a sigh as I feel the warmth of his breath on my neck.

"This. The sea" I say.

"What do you mean?"

"I've never felt you this calm" I muse "it's like how I feel since I started using my magic. Like everything is right".

He lets out a warm laugh and I can feel it through my back as it rumbles in his chest

"It's the freedom of it" he admits "on the isle… you know. You can be the king of the joint"

"But all you will ever be is a king of a cage" I complete the sentence for him in a low whisper and he sighs quietly

"Did you consider just going off?" he asks suddenly after another moment's silence. I don't need to ask what he means.

I know the feeling and I'd be lying if I said the thought hasn't crossed my mind. To leave it all behind and just go away, discover the world, never bother with war on Auradon or the underworld. To run away from everything as if we have a choice.

"Yeah" I whisper. Shame coursing through me and fills me to the brim. The fact that I even considered leaving our family on the isle behind. The fact that for a moment there on the top deck I felt like this would be enough. Like just the four of us and open sea and a bottle of wine would be enough to calm the conscience that would surly eat me from the inside. It felt like we were a floating island of freedom and serenity and caring for the rest of the world was a weight that pulled me into the darkening water.

Harry sags a bit behind me, letting go of a tension i didn't notice he was holding. He lets go of my hand and leans beside me, still close enough for me to feel the abnormal warmth of him, and yet far enough for me to shiver at the loss of that warmth.

"Me too" he admits "it's a fucking nightmare"

"I think anyone would have" I say, hoping that I come across more sure than I feel "but we didn't run away. We are still fighting for our family"

He staying quiet, I sneak a quick glance to him and see that his eyes are fixed on the sea before us. The horizon ahead only barely illuminated by the starry sky. A silly notion pops to my head and I giggle.

"What?" Harry asks, already smiling despite not knowing what made me laugh.

"I just thought, when we do take over Auradon all of us are going to need a new hobby"

"Who says I don't have one?" he asks

"Really?" I ask, single eyebrow raised in my best doubtful look.

"No not really" he admits "but now I think that sailing would probably be a good one. You?"

"I don't know" I muse "I never thought of that. I always had my studies and training and you guys"

"Well, you dance damn good. Do you still like dancing?" he asks and my gaze shoots to him in an instant. Dancing is not something I thought about as a hobby. A hobby was something you put time and effort into. Something like knitting on hunting or who knows what Auradonians did with all the time they had not spending on survival. Dancing was… different. It was a thing I loved, sure, but not in a 'spend a nice afternoon way'. I loved dancing as an outlet for emotions and energy. When I couldn't cry or rage or change anything about anything I would drag my friends dancing and lose myself to shitty basses and snare lights. It was not a hobby. It was a necessity. It was the closest thing I had to magic. To think that harry thought of it as something I was good at sent a strange delightfull shiver all the way up my spine and to that same aching spot between my legs. I wanted to move closer to him. Thinking about nights out dancing, both of us sweating and breathless as I press against him. Not quite sex. And yet so damn alive.

I think he is thinking something similar because he moves closer to me, lips parted. His eyes, normally so blue I feel like i could drown in are now dark with desire and need. Without thinking I lift my head to meet those wicked lips and move my hands from the wheel to grab a hold of his jacket.

That was a bad move.

Harry's attention snaps from me and he grabs the helm. I think he might be mad but he simply laughs and lock it into position.

"That's probably a bad idea" he mumbles and I can't tell if he means the wheel or the kiss. He moves to the small control panel at the back and presses the button that lowers the anchor, stopping us for the night. He doesn't look at me. Those gorgeous blue eyes hidden from me and I can't tell what he is thinking. He is rigid in his moment so much so that he almost looks in pain. He doesn't look at me as he makes for the ladder downstairs and I realize with a shock that he is giving up. He is about to go, fold the sails, and go to sleep. And it's probably a good idea.

There is a full day of sailing ahead of us, and as a first mate he would have to be functional. Besides, we are a bad idea for each other. We are a mixture that makes chaos and pain and no amount of alcohol, sea air, or potential sex could change that. He is leaving. And I can't stop him.

"Oh fuck it" I hear him snarl and suddenly- he is upon me.

A strong hand grabs my arm forcefully as he pulls me against him. He slams me against his chest, his other arm finding the small of my back and pulling me closer. And them his lips are one mine.

There is something hungry and desperate in the moment of his lips, and they feel so familiar, the taste of him like air to a drowning person. My mouth opens in a small gasp at the ferocity of the kiss and he takes the opportunity to claim my mouth with his tongue. I moaned into his mouth, loudly, and let my hands roam free. Up his neck, over his chest, pulling at that messy hair.

That kiss brings back memories of us in back allies and room, in our little attic, in the storage room of Ursula's bar.

He moves to kiss and bite at my neck and I shut my lips because I don't think I can keep these whimpers quite otherwise. He leaves a trail of hot breath and scorching kisses up my neck and grins against the sweet spot by my ear he simply knows would drive me crazy. he bites, pressing himself closer to me as he does and my knees go weak. I let out a needy whimper and he chuckles and makes to silence this sound with his lips.

The warmth of him sips into my body and I know that I am embarrassingly wet for him by now. He let's go of my lips, breathing heavy as he keeps them mere centimeters from mine

"The other day" he mumbles against my lips "when you fought me, you looked so damn hot, I didn't knew if I wanted to beat you back or have you there on the floor".

"Would have fooled me" I breath and kiss him again.

It's a softer kiss this time, as though we have taken off the edge of hunger and desire and were now free to explore each other with ease. He returns the kiss, one of his hands trailing down to give my ass a hard squeeze. I gasp with surprise and he simply laughs wickedly. He presses against me and I can feel his hardness through his trousers.

"your cabin?" he muses.

I look into these eyes. Dark with desire and still so blue I feel like I could drown in them forever. The kind of ocean with terrifying glorious things in its deep. It's probably the best way to describe him. I want him. It hurts how much I want him. But as I look into these eyes I remember a different kind of pain. I sigh deeply, already knowing my answer. He was right when he said this was a bad idea. I should have listened.

"This is probably a bad idea" I say and by all the gods this is hard and painful to say, made unbearable when I see those words hit and the light in his eyes shift in understanding.

He lets go of me instantly, taking a step back and the cold of the night rushes to take him place. The change is so sudden it makes me wish I didn't say it. Makes me wish I simply grabbed him downstairs and done with him every wicked thing that crossed his mind or mine.

But this is the right thing to do. It's the responsible thing to do. It's the only thing to do if we want to actually finish this mission and free our family.

He smiles at me, and it's the sort of smile you smile at a dying person when you try to make them feel better. I've seen this smile in the mirror so many times. I practically rehearsed it.

"sorry" I whisper. He chuckles but shakes his head

"The sea breeze would do that to you my dad says" he mumbles with that bitter grin.

I force out the chuckles.

"yeah" I say "must be the wind"

 _ok. now wait a little longer. the next one is not finished yet._


	9. Chapter 9 - edges that cut

_Welcome back everyone. this chapter contains adult themes. please take the time to read the note at the end of the chapter._

 _the song for this one is:_

 _Clarity_

* * *

 **Chapter 9- We Have Broken Edges and they Cut**

I wish I could say things between Harry and me were fine and dandy the next day. I wish I could say I woke up, saw him have his coffee out on the deck and didn't feel like I am chocking on regret and embarrassment. I wish I could say he acted normal around me. Teased and laughed and was his own wonderful type of lovable asshole. I really do.

But things with Harry weren't all normal and calm the next day. Or even the one after that.

We try our best to be civil with each other, professional as we help Uma take us forward towards my soon-to-be kingdom.

The problem, of course, is that while Harry and I might be professional troublemakers and rascals, we are most definitely not civil. So this whole play pretend of "everything is fine" is not really helping any of us. It feels rusty and awkward and we end up barely talking to each other.

It's actually incredible how the two of us can be destructive to each other even when we try our utmost best not to be

I spend the next few days pacing around like a caged animal. There is only so much pacing you can do even on 100 feet of elongated luxurious boat so I end up feeling frustrated and useless most of the time.

Out in the open sea Uma and the boys are able to use the natural wind, the sails, and their own skills to move us along. At night Uma uses the starlight map to make adjustments to our course for the next day and make sure we are still on track.

We sleep in the lavish cabins of the boat that offer better sleeping conditions than any of us have ever experienced- with cotton sheets, soft pillows and feather blankets. In the first few nights I can't fall asleep not for the swaying of the waves but for the softness of the mattress- I feel like I am going to sink all the way through. The cabins are warm and the taps flow with clean water. We don't even have to ration our food.

I should be pleased.

I am currently sailing on a first class boat across the sea, accompanied by my friends and more free than I have even been. Only 2 weeks ago I was on the isle, in a single room apartment and with no gang to have my back as I tended to a dying father.

For all intents and purposes this was as big an upgrade as anyone could hope for.

But as the days pass and the winds stay favorable I find myself growing more and more restless. With nothing to do I take to practicing my magic, trying to figure out what I can and cannot do and how far I can stretch myself.

Having been raised on the classic tales- I turn to try my luck at the classic elements. The wind is familiar by this point, but still requires a certain amount of prodding and nudging to react to me. The water won't budge to my magic but rises obediently to react to Uma's will. Finally- after a quick experiment with a bunch of matches nearly burns my eyebrows off- I find that the threads of fire (while wild and unpredictable) react to me instantaneously with a sense of obedient eagerness. I decide to test further my relationship with the flames when I am not floating on a vessel built almost entirely of wood.

For some reason, however, everything that has to do with the treads of magic has become low and clumsy. What was as natural as breathing the first time I attempted it feel now like trying to push a boulder up a hill.

I test other aspects of magic that my father mentioned over the years to different level of success varying from 'at least you tried' to 'that was completely pathetic you waste of space'. Sometimes when I try to move things about using magic they levitate to me for a short while until I lose focus and they drop. Other times nothing happens. One time I made a glass explode. It's all really frustrating.

Despite its unpredictable nature I find that simply attempting magic and reaching the threads around me has a strange affect on me. The first thing I notice is how exhausting it can get- after an hour's practice I am breathing heavily and covered in sweat. A quick glance in the mirror reveals that my face is flushed and glowing, and that my irises are dilated.  
On the other hand, shortly after I catch my breath I feel more alert and awake than I did before. My appetite is better than it's ever been, I sleep well and all in all I feel healthier than I have even did in my life.

I remember how weak I used to be as a little girl, so scrawny that my father had to give up teaching me the sword and shield in favor of lighter daggers. I remember how short and skinny Uma used to be as a child (enough to justify the nickname shrimpy). I remember how pathetic Ursula has become over the years. How my father has faded away. How Maleficent was weak enough to be defeated by her half-breed of a daughter.

We were all suffering for years and my generation didn't even know that. How many children have died over the years that were born of weak magical parents? Was magic deprivation killing us all? Was the magic blocking shield around the isle a slow death sentence? And most important of all- did the Auradonians know that when they locked us there?

I was all for killing your enemies, but this? This painfully slow death in pretense of kindness this was to monstrous even by the isle's standards. It's not the fact that they were killing us- it was the fact the they were vile enough to believe themselves kind and merciful for not actually doing it with their own hands.

I find myself thinking off all the things my father could have told me but didn't.

He prepared me to take his place one day- that much is clear. He knew that one day I would find a way off this prison or he wouldn't have bothered to teach me magic at all. But if he knew why did he never tell me how to claim his throne?!

Why did he never tell my anything about my mother save for what a deserting bitch she was? He spent a hell of a long time complaining about her but not a word on how will I find her or what to do when I meet her. And why ,when he knew he was sure to die, did he not tell me everything he could to make me ready? Why did he have to leave at all? Why couldn't he hold on for just a little longer?

I find that the more I look into these questions the more questions I have. Most of these questions are unfair, childish and cruel. It's like a gaping hole with inside off me where he used to be. I scream into that void and it sniggers in return.

I spent my last year with him trying my best to keep him alive and for what? He never spent time with me for anything other than insufficient training that amounted to absolutely nothing. He never spoke of anything that mattered.

I miss him painfully and I resent him even more.

In these days of painful nothingness aboard the boat I find myself wishing for him back not to tell him I miss of or love him- but rather to scream at him that he was a neglecting shit and that if he actually meant for me to inherit him perhaps he should have tried to be a competent teacher. Perhaps he should have warned me about how goddamn unwilling magic would be most of the time.

A surge of fresh anger rushes through me and I yank harder on the thread that I am holding as I let out a roar of frustration. The small amethyst paperweight I was trying to levitate to me reacts instantly not by surging towards be like I had hopes- but by exploding to dozens of miniature shards that fly every which way.

"Nice " Gill chuckles. I shoot my gaze to him, seeing him perched on the boats edge and I have to fight back the urge to run over and push him overboard.

"Where you trying to do that?" Uma muses, she locks the helm, apparently pleased with the direction we are taking and starling down the steps to the big deck where I spent my time training. She has a concerned sort of look in her eye. I can't tell if she is concerned about me or how useless my magic has become and the uncertainty makes me anxious and agitated.

"What do you think?!" I bite.

He brow furrows and she kneels, picking up some of the shards I've spread and examining it like it might hold the answer to this pathetic display.

"Ok. maybe you can try pushing instead of-"

"Do you think I haven't tried that?!" I spit. I have tried pushing. Puling. Prodding. Lifting. I have tried to make the damn thing move towards me in every way I could imagine and yet nothing happened. The fact the she would even consider I didn't try something so basic as that.

"She was just trying to help" says Harry. He is looking down at us, sitting on the upper deck with feline grace. Just seeing him, all smugness and calm, makes me want to scream. I want to fight him. Anyone. I am a volcanic force looking for a way out.

"Stay the fuck out of this harry"

Gill is rising from his perch on the deck. He moves closer to me, cautiously, as if feeling the rage radiating from me in strong waves on violent heat.

"Sem what's going on?" he asks, his voice genuinely worried. He really want to help. Except at this moment I don't want to be helped.

"Everything's super" I spit at him, turning on my hill to look at them all. At my crew as they surround me with condescending worried faces.

"Look I didn't wanna say anything" says Uma, she tossed the shard of amethyst aside and moves closer to me, palms raised as though she was walking up to an animal " but if you need help with whatever it is your going through you know you can talk to me"

No. not an animal. Just a mad woman.

"What do you mean what I'm going through" I snarl at her. Eyes wide. Fists clenched. I am not even sure how I got here. How I became is swirling ball of rage that I am now. I feel as though all the frustration of the past days, at my father, at harry, at the magic, at the fucking boat- it all needs an out. This stupid failed magic right now has become the final straw the breaks the back of the beast. I am about to break under the pressure of it all and for once I can't bring myself to care who gets in the way.

Uma seems to have had enough as well. She straitens up to her full, inconsiderable, height as she talks. "You are on edge! You are restless, you can't even use your magic"

"My magic is fine" I say, eyes narrowing, daring her to press on.

"Sure it is" she retorts.

"are you looking for a fight?!" I turn to face her head on, taking a step closer in a threatening move. Around me I can sense Harry and Gill tensing up. If I throw a punch now I can't tell if they will intervene or not.

Uma on the other hand is the picture of authoritative calmness as she raises her head to meet my eyes.

"I will if you make me. But I was thinking I was trying to help" she says. Her voice is low. It's a promise. Not a threat.

Suddenly this tension is too much. I throw my arms in the air as I move away from her. Something akin to sense return to me and I realize what damage she and I could cause this vessel if we actually let loose here. I need to get away. I need to get this under control.

"It's all fine! You have a boat you get to play captain! Everything is great!" I bark.

"We are making this journey for you" she shouts after me.

"No!" I should as I turn back to her. The need to stay and fight and the need to get away to my bunk so I can scream in piece are fighting within me.

"you are doing this so I could get you your army, because you didn't bother thinking of a normal plan!"

Her eyes narrow and I realize with a pang of guilt that I hit a raw nerve with this one.

A firm hand is placed on my shoulder. It grabs hard enough to cause pain and I don't have to look to know who's is it. When did he even get down here?

"Sem you are being a dick" Harry snarls. Full of venom. Violence rising to match mine.

"Bite me hook" I shake my shoulder free of his grasp and leave. Now. Before I could make things worse.

Apparently the door to the lower cabin doesn't block sounds. Because as I descend down there I can here Gill say

"What's gotten into her?"

* * *

I lie in my bunk and try to breath.

My eyes are shut, I try to force myself to calm down, to lower my heartbeat, to unclench every muscle and joint. I am a tight spring and I feel like everything in me about to burst open. In fire or tears- I don't know.

I am not even sure how I got to this situation or who to blame. Myself, obviously, but who else?

My father? Harry? Uma?

Better blame the living than the dead I think.

A hard knock on the door disturbs my thought. Whoever it was didn't wait for me to answer and simply walked it.

"Not now Uma" I grunt. Can't she see I am actually trying to be responsible by distancing myself?

"Not Uma"

I open my eyes and see Harry closing the door after him and leaning on it. Strong arms folded on his chest. The line of his jaw is tense in obvious anger. I am so not in the mood for that.

"Get out harry" I say. I get up on the bed, not wanting to look like I am giving up, but also not giving him the satisfaction of rising for the challenge.

"You are piece of work you know that?" he says practically between his teeth. His voice in low and dangerous.

"Thanks for the insight" I spit back.

"We are doing all of this to get you to home"

This is bullshit and he knows it. I rise from my sit on my bunk to talk to him eye to eye. Or at least as close as I can get.

"No, you are doing this to get an army-"

"Same business" he cuts me.

"Sure it is" I say with every bit of sarcasm I can muster.

"Why are you always like this?!" he is all frustration and rage as he is trying hard not to yell. I wonder if Uma told him not to come here- otherwise why would he care?

"Like what?" I spit back

"Assume that everyone's out to get you?"

"Because on the isle they normally are" the question seems stupid. We all grew up in a world where dog eats dog. If you want it take it, and if you can't take it break it. Watching one's back is not attitude- it's as necessary as breathing. Harry should know better.

"You are not on the isle anymore!" he yells, hands thrown up and for a moment I flinch, thinking he night be snapping but no. just an angry gesture.

"even I clocked that. You are not supposed to think your own crew is going to betray you!" he continues.

"Because this never happened before" I deadpan. Eyes narrow. Daring him to contradict me now.

There is a moment's silence between us as my words sink with him. for a moment his shoulders slack a bit and he chuckles. It's a bitter, humorless, sound.

"Is that about us?" he asks.

"No harry. It's about a lot of things but yes, among others, it's about you" I can't give him this satisfaction. Not entirely. I can't have him know the effect he has one me after all this time. I can't bare myself to him like that again.

He looks at me and there is something pained in his eyes as he says. "I never meant to hurt you"

"That makes one of us" I snarl and turn away from him. I can't look into these eyes right now. My nerves are fraying and I am so out of control of everything- my magic, my emotions, my body. It's terrifying.

His hand grabs mine by the wrist, not letting me turn away, not letting me step out of this battle. We are two animals circling in a fighting pit. The first one to pounce might just be the one dead by the end of it.

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself enough" he says, his voice low like the sort of growls one of these beasts might make.

"Not the point" I say. My mouth runs dry. I force myself to not think of how much this feels like my body normally does after using magic for a long time. Warm and alert and brimming with power.

"I think I get what is it about" he muses. There is something akin to a smile dancing on those lips. No. don't look at his lips dammit.

"Couldn't care less" I say.

"Your getting stir crazy" he says, his voice barely more than a whisper "Nothing to do but work magic that doesn't work for you and regretting the other night. No one to blame either"

"Good thing I can still blame you" I say. I don't know what I want more. To slap him or to kiss him. desire and violence making a fine line between us. A taught wire stretching in the inches between him and me. When my eyes flicker again to his lips he smiles. Knowing I have lost this round.

"Go ahead" he says.

So I do.

I grab at his hair and pull him down so I can kiss him. I bit his lip, it an attempt tic lame dominance or to tell him to open those sinful lips and let me in. he does and I claim his mouth with my tongue.

He makes a deep sound that is somewhere between a growl and moan and grabs my hips hard. He lifts me up and slams me against the door, my legs wrap around his waist and I let my hand roam free under his shirt. He lets go of my lips just long enough for me to toss it away before he is back attacking my mouth and my neck. He grinds against, an agonizingly slow movement of his hips against my core.

Just for once, I want to do something completely selfish. I want him so much its insane.

I pull on his hair and he hisses but lets go of my lips

"bed" I whisper hoarsely and he obliges.

Effortlessly, he moves me from the wall and all but tosses me on the bed. He barly gives me time before he preps himself above me.

He kisses down my collarbone, his hand his cold from the air outside and has he palms my breast I shudder against him. He chuckles

"sorry"

No. I can't have this turn into something sweet. I can't have him make me laugh or fall in love with him because if I do this is the end of me. I can't let my heart get into this. Instead I yank at his belt. I kiss him hard, biting his lip to the point I almost draw blood. It's not desire. Its desperation.

He gets the message quickly enough and we are both out of our pants and underwear before I have time to think better of it. I don't want him to ask me if I am sure because I am not sure what will be my answer. I don't want him to tell that I am beautiful because that might make me feel something. I don't want him to talk dirty because that might make me laugh. I don't want to think.

I reach grab him in my hands and direct him towards my core, ready to take anything he is willing to give me.

"Sem'" he whispers and I shut my eyes "Sem' Stop!"

Suddenly I am cold.

I open my eyes to see he is not hovering above me anymore. He is kneeling on the small bed, away from me. He is hard, that I can see, and his eyes are dark with want. So why?-

"I want you" he says, and there is actual pain in his voice.

"you have me" I whisper and make to touch him again. He flinches away. Harry fucking hook actually flinches away.

"what's wrong?" I ask

he takes a deep breath and lets it out, slowly. His hand moves and brushes the hair away from his face. When he looks at me he looks almost broken.

"I won't let you make me into a way for you to hurt yourself" he says "I know what you kiss like when you actually want. This is not it. I won't, I cant-" something in his voice breaks and he looks away. He fished for his underwear and pants. He doesn't look at me and I feel shame rise within me.

Was that it? Was fighting Uma and fucking Harry just a way to hurt myself? I thought I was letting off steam but… now that he mentions it I am forced to look back at the gaping hole that opened within me. Nothingness and grief and fear and pain.

"Harry"

He turns to look at me.

"stay? I don't want to be alone"

He must know how hard it is for me to say these words because, without a word, he sits back on the bed. I take a blanket to cover myself and, cautiously, lean on his shoulder. It's strange- this closeness- this intimacy that has nothing to do with sex and everything to do with me and him. I feel at is and safe with him like that. Calmer than I have is a couple of days at least. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, imagining it carrying out of me the pain and anger in a form of a thick dark smoke. It's childish notion. But do enough times and I actually feel lighter.

"I'm sorry" I say

"Me too" he answers

.

We stay like that for a long moment. Listening to the waves and the ocean outside and each others breathing.

"I do regret the other night" I say finally, feeling like a bit of honesty of probably due.

He doesn't answer; he simply lets out an empty breath of a laugh. Harry is warm and his chest is lean and muscular. I used to love to trace his scars with my fingers as an innocent sort of excuse to touch these muscles ,back in the day.

One of these scars wasn't there the last time we sat like this.

It's not new by any account, It's been there for over a year. It's silvery white and is about an inch long- stretching on the right side of his lower abdomen. I know this one even though I've never seen it.

I know it because I've caused it.

There are tears in my eyes when I finally recognize the little stab wound for what it is and I let out a sound that is something between a laugh and a whimper. Even I don't know what it was meant to be.

"we are a mess" I say "everything's a mess. Why are we doing this?"

"Doing what?" he asks, now looking at me with concern.

"Hurt each other. Hurt people we care for. It's like every time we try to do something right someone gets hurt. We have broken edges and we cut people we love with them"

"I don't know" he admits "We are villain kids. Nobody taught us how to be kind"

"I want to stop it .I hate this whole villains and heroes nonsense. They are not good, they left us to die"

I can't help but think again of the consequences of the magical barrier. The ones I am sure Auradon knew of when they cast it. I think of other things to. Of Uma and Gill and Harry being a family to me. Of the few people on the isle who did try to feed starving children. Of Doctor Faciliar treating my father on his death bed for no charge. They were not kind people, any of them; some of them were monsters through and through. But I was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, even monsters are not all bad.

"And we are not all evil. It's just the part they want us to play so that they can play the heroes" I say finally.

Harry looks at me for a long moment. I see something in his eyes, recognition. Understanding. Acceptance.

"maybe" he says.

We stay like this another moment before I uncurl myself from the blankets and dress up. No pont trying to hide myself again. He had seen everything I have to show many times over.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"I got to talk to Uma"

* * *

I don't find her were I thought I would. When I look for her at the helm I find Gill there instead. He tells me she is down by the ramps. As close to the water as she can get without actually going in.

"Uma?"

She doesn't turn to look at me. Her small dark feel are dangling overboard and she looks at the trail of waves and foam the boat leaves after itself.

"Fucked it out of your system?" she asks bitterly and I feel a pang of guilt at her words"

"No actually" I say quietly.

Finally she turns to look at me. There is a relieved sort of smile of her face as she moves aside- giving me some room to sit beside he

"I was hoping your wouldn't"

With an audible sigh of relief I go to sit by my cousin.

"No. seems like we are actually capable of doing something right"

"Shocker" she deadpans.

"I know" I say "I am sorry"

"I know" she says. so lightly I am almost sure she is being sarcastic.

"I mean it" I press. Looking at her and trying to will her to move her eyes from the ocean and see how much I mean what I say.

"So do I" she says. She gives me a quick smile and adds "apology accepted".

It's like a weight has lifted off my heart. Suddenly I feel like I can breathe freely. I lean back and look out at the see with her. The sun paints the sky a gorgeous pink color of dusk a few stray clouds shaded with gold and orange, the water below us grow darker. It's a beautiful evening.

"I get it you know. The rage. The feeling of helplessness. Like nothing you do matters" she says quietly. She is barely audible over the sound of the waves.

"I know you do" I say. She has known as much pain and grief as any of us. I should have known she would understand. Even if I could only hope she would forgive.

"I know that when it gets in your system, along with the grief and whatever it is you have with harry" she continues but I have to interrupt.

"There is nothing between me and Harry"

"Sure there isn't" she says with a dry sarcastic tone "My point is, I meant what I said. I am here for you when you are ready to talk to me. I will listen. I will help you pummel this rage out. So would Gill, so would Harry. Just because your parents are not around doesn't mean you don't have a family"

"I know" I say. No matter how many times her and harry would say these things there is always a part of me that wants to dismiss them. I have to fight to hold on to the feeling of being wanted and loved. Hold on and not let go for anything in the world.

"And you know" she says in a lighter tone "so long as you are able to do your job for the mission, I actually don't think you and harry is a bad idea"

"I thought you said-"

"Forget what I said, I was angry" she says and dismisses me with a curt wave of her hand. I chuckle bitterly. If only I trusted myself to stay collected with him. if only I trusted myself to keep an eye on the mission, to keep on fighting if something was to happen to him. the truth is I don't know what I would do. I feel like I am barely in control when I am with him anymore. He is my Achilles hill when it comes to my mental and magical control is would seem. And I don't want him to be my undoing.

"Thanks. But I am not sure we- that I can. I am scared of how out of control I feel around this man sometimes" I say bitterly.

"You are always in control cus" she muses and turns her gaze from the sea to look at me "sometimes I wonder what would be left in a radius of several miles if you actually do let go"

The thought, while amusing, is so unlikely that I let it go immediately.

"Remember what they used to say? If you want it take it, if you can't take it break it" I ask

"Yeah"

"I don't think it applies to people. Not the ones you care for anyway" I say bitterly. I feel a weight at my side as she leans on me, resting her braided head on my shoulder. Her arm sneaks around my shoulders in an awkward sisterly hug. There is nothing else to say.

"Uma!" Gill's voice bellows from the upper deck as her calls for her.

"What?" she yells back. She is on her feet and back in her captain persona in an instant.

Gill runs down to see us as if he is being chased. A strange, scared , smile on his face.

"Land ho"

* * *

 _Authors note:_

 _I feel like I need to explain this one a bit, because it surprised me when I wrote it. I didn't plan to kill of Hades in the first chapter, but as soon as I wrote it I knew I would like to let Semele work through her grief in a human way and humans are... well... flawed. I am uncomfortable writing smut, but I decided to push myself with this one and try to do it anyway. but when I tried to wrote this one I noticed that something feels wrong. Semele IS NOT in a correct place for an intimate relationship in this chapter. she is knee deep it rage and self doubt and she is working from a selfish place of looking for a distraction and self punishment. it's not abuse, it's complete consensual. but even consent can come from the wrong place when someone is in such a frail mental state._

 _I hope you enjoyed this one. the next one is in the work._


	10. Chapter 10: The long way Down

_**Sorry that it took so long to write this one. real life got in the way...**_  
 _ **there are a lot of references to greek mythology in this one so there are some explanations at the bottom note.**_

 _ **song of the Chapter:**_  
 _ **Delta Rae- Bottom of the River.**_

* * *

Chapter 10 – The long way down

Land Ho was a bit of an overstatement of Gill's part.

After several days of sailing in open sea and following the star map, we finally reach the place that the was marked with a strange purple star on its surface. As we stop the boat and lay down anchor I take a moment to examine the place my map had led us to.

It's a small rocky island. Although, it is only an island in the sense that an island is a small piece of land surrounded by water on all sides. The place can barely be called a patch of land, let alone an island- not when you bear in mind a vast one like the isle of the lost. No, this tiny piece of land is smaller that our boat.

I can hardly believe Gill spotted it.

It's made of some sort of a dark volcanic rock, planks of dark stone overlaying each other as they rise from the sea to create land.

There is something unsettling about it.

I can see Harry and Uma, both being seafaring people notice the same thing- right now the tide should be rising and yet the small piece of rocky land is dry and safe from the reach of the waves. Nothing grows on this island. Not even seaweed on the edges the touch the water, no tiny crabs or shells. The door to the land of the dead supports no life at all.

It's fitting in a way.

When we make our way to the small isle I see the remains of a ruined arch. Two round pillars built of black marble are rising from the dark rock to mark the entrance. I assume that once they would have stood tall above all of us- impressive and menacing as they mark the gate. now they are broken and decaying.

I am not sure what I expected from the steps to the underworld. Perhaps I thought there would be someone guarding them, a lock to open, or an ominous writing telling us to abandon all hope as we enter here.  
Instead, beyond the ruined arch, I find nothing bet dark steppes in the rock- leading down. The steps seem dry and safe, and they go on down as far as I can see, made or the same dark rock as the rest on the tiny isle.  
And this is it- the way to the underworld stretches bellow us, open and clear.

"This is it" I say as I look down into the dark

"Yup" Uma agrees.

The four of us are standing before the entrance to the underworld. None of us dares to make the first step into the belly of the earth. And in a way- can you blame us? This is literally walking into hell on the pedestrian route.

"Are we going in?" asks Gill beside me

I look to Uma who, for once, doesn't seem sure of herself. I realize with a shiver that this time around I am the expert.  
I know a lot of stories of the rules of this land, how to act on the way up and how to cross the river. But the way down, it would seem, is as straight forward as can be. One step after another. All the way to the land of the dead.

"I'll take the front" I say, tightening the belt of my satchel across my chest and counting my daggers as I do "Uma, you take the rear"

"Why?" asks Harry, Obviously uncomfortable with being in the protected spot in the middle of the group

"Because if anything attacks us down there chances are it's already dead. So brute force might not be effective" I say.

Harry doesn't answer. I can almost see what goes through his head. He is the superstitious type he grew up on stories of ghost ships and Davy Jones's locker, the bad luck of keeping a dead body of deck and the revenge of the spirit if you toss it overboard… he must love this about as much as I do. I reach my hand to his and give it a small squeeze.

He blue eyes fly to meet my gold ones and I try to look surer than I feel as I smile at him.

"You know… unlike your old man's stories, my dad had a ton of stories of people actually making it back up"

He chuckles and tightens his grip on my palm, if only for a moment

"So long as they don't piss off the host"

* * *

And so, with me in the lead, the boys in the middle and Uma at the rear, we start our descent into the darkness bellow. slowly at first.

"Do we have any torches?" asks Harry

"I got one" I say. It's ready in my hand for the moment when we go completely out of the reach of the dying sun. Hoping to save as much of the batteries as I can I refuse to turn it on just yet. I don't know how long this walk might take and I doubt that the Batteries will actually last for 10 hours like the pack said. However, it was either this or making this trip in complete darkness, which sounds like a terrible idea, so they would have to do.

"Should probably turn it on, I can't see a thing" says Gill behind me and I decide that this is probably as good a time as any to start wasting our precious light source.

The stairway to the underworld, however, has a different idea.

We take one more echoing step into darkness, another one, and then the cave blazes into light around us.

Torches burst into life on the walls, strange looking flame dancing in bowls that protrude from the wall on our right. They ignite so suddenly that the surprise nearly knocks me backwards.  
The light is blue and cold and it makes the shades of our surroundings look ever more ominous than before. The light kills all color, makes us into a strange monochrome picture of dim dancing shadows.

"Easy there" says Harry behind me

"Sorry" I say "I wasn't expecting that" my breath is heavy and I try to force myself to calm down. Swallow. breath. Stand back straight.

"Guess we don't need that torch" says Gill and the rest of us chuckle in agreement.

I look behind me and see him and the others looking at the flames with bewilderment. We have all stopped now, admiring the strange display of magic of the walls. A nostalgic smile finds its way to my lips. The flame is that shade of electric blue that used to dance on my father's head. It brings fond memories of me sneaking up on him as he slept and learning the hard way that, yes, even thought it doesn't burn stuff like bed sheets and clothes - it was still very hot. It brings bad memories to, of how sickly it looked in his final days, and how it went out like an ordinary candle flame when he closed his eyes for the last time.

A hand on my shoulder wakes me from these memories. I turn to see harry behind me, his eyes warm and understanding. He knows exactly where my mid took me at the sight of this flames. he knows it is place I fear and ache for all the same. I return a smile.

"We should carry on" I say.

And so we do.

The way down is longer that I could have ever imagined. We keep traveling deeper over turns and curves in the way. Sometimes we travel in a tunnel, other times a gaping canyon opens on one side of the stairs. The drop of the canyon is so deep and dark that I get a chilling sensation that a person falling into it will die of old age before ever hitting the bottom. We stay as close to the wall as we can in those areas and thankfully the stairs are mostly wide enough to keep us from falling into horrifying and certain death

After several hours of silent descent down the stairs we stop for a much needed break, camping together on the ground of the tunnel.

"What do you think is down there?" Gill asks

"Where?" asks Uma. She passes the small container of water to me and I take a small sip of chilling water. I try to not think about how unprepared we came for such a long journey, and how we should have tried to pack up more supplies is in case we end up traveling for a few days. The thought is terrifying and I try not to dwell on it. I also don't need to ask what Gill means by 'Down there' not after seeing the way he looked at the darkness below.

"Things you don't wanna know" I answer in a hushed tone "there are different levels to the underworld reserved for special people"

"Special how?" He asks

"The people who end up this deep into the pit are the sort of people who pissed of the gods enough for the gods to make sure that even their screams will never be heard"

"What sort of people" Uma asks casually. I am not sure if this is all it is, casual curiosity, or something deeper.

I shrug "there was this one guy who tried to come here and kidnap my mom" I say "My dad had him fuse to a chair with poisonous snakes biting him for all eternity. Another guy tried to cheat him, so he is pushing a boulder up a hill somewhere down here"

"Forever?" asks Gill "what happens when he reaches the top"

"It rolls back down" I say

"Bloody hell" says harry "you guys sure can hold a grudge don't you?"

knowing he isn't only talking about my father- the remark hits deep. I am ready to retort or argue back but when I look at him all I see is that a teasing smile is spread on his lips. I laugh, suddenly relieved at the fact that we have apparently reached the point of joking about our past. that we can laugh at the heartbreak and misery. it's so casual that I I am not entirely sure how to react but to laugh. The others soon join me for a brief moment before I say;

"Yeah well, we used to be immortal"

I try to imagine it myself, the sort of people who deserved to be stuck in a river of agony and pain forever. People damned to push a boulder up a hill. People chained to a chair with snake biting them for all eternity. If I end up ruling this realm- will I have to dish out such punishments too? Will I have to think up poetic justice for the people who wronged the natural order of this world? Or just my enemies?  
I find it impossible to imagine a rage that outlives a person's lifetime. Yes I could get angry and vengeful, but my anger was as easy to die as it was to ignite. If I rule the underworld would I have to lead it as my father did? Or maybe…

"We should go on" says Uma as she rises to her feet. She offers me a hand and I take it. She is right. There would be time to think about changes to the management after I sit the throne. Not before. And so we go on.

* * *

The river Styx is actually one of several rivers flowing under the earth. Once upon a time my father made me memorize the names and attributes of each and every one of them but it was one of those lessons that weren't repeated and so forgotten immediately. The river Styx is not the largest or the most ancient of the rivers of the earth, but it is the most famous one- this is probably due to the fact that it flows directly into the world of the dead, and unless you are one of said dead it is your only way in or out of the underworld.

As we descend the last of the steps we see the river before us, shimmering as grazing the dock softly. It's a single dock built to fit a single elongated boat. It's the only boat that ever had, or ever will dock here. The ferryman and his boat are there, waiting.

The boat strangely looks very much like I imagined it would.  
The thin vessel is made of some unknown dark material and is moved by the single ferrymen and his long oar. The boat's edges are low to allow the oar free movement, and its front is sharp and built almost like the nose of a warship. the kind that would tare a hole in an unlucky enemy ship. It has spikes and swirls on both it's sides and all in all- it looks like it was build to fight and intimidate. A shiver goes down my spine when I try to imagine who or what did my father have to fight down here. The ferryman is motionless as we approach and for a moment I am unsure if he is even alive. He is a pale skeletal figure, leaning in his oar at the back of his boat. He is as still as the stones around us.

"Charon?" I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper but the echo of the cave carries it and makes it bigger than I intended. I am sure he heard me, and whether or not you can call him alive- he responds.

He turns to us; his face is nothing but grey skin over bone. His eyes are not hollow but as dark at the deepest pit of the underworld as he looks at me.

He looks at us for a long moment and says nothing. Simply raises his bony hand to mine. Waiting.

I gulp and take another, smaller step towards him, and drop the coins I stole from the yacht it his palm. There are eight of them and I hope that it would be enough.

Charon's fingers close on the coins, somehow engulfing the thick pieces of gold in a palm the looks so thin it could snap any moment. When he opens his palm again the coins are all gone. With a slow and practiced movement he gestures us towards the boat.

His way of saying;'come aboard'.

I let out a breath as relief washes through me, and I look to the others. The same look is mirrored in their faces as we board the boat and carefully arrange ourselves on it in a way that won't upset the balance.

We didn't have a plan B for this part. It was absolutely clear that if for whatever reason Charon refused to take us on his boat down the river we might as well pack up and go back to Auradon. Or wait on the shore until our natural death arrived. Nobody comes inside this land alive, not without the ferryman's approval anyway.

"He is a load of fun isn't he?" Harry mutters as we leave the dock behind us.

Charon pushes the boat with long and powerful strokes, sending his entire skeletal body into the movement as he does. That in itself is not unusual or spooky; it is the fact that he is completely silent as he does it. No groans of effort, no breath, not change whatsoever in his demeanor or any shifts of his weight.  
He is as silent as only a dead thing could be, and we are not. In the stillness of the river I can hear our breaths, the tiny involuntary sounds we make when we shuffle a bit in our seat, the fact that we even need to move about in our seats at all.

Our vitality is deafening next to him. As if it wasn't clear enough that we don't belong down here.

Charon rows us forward and the river starts to slowly shift around us, the dark walls draw further away, the sealing higher and menacing, creating an enormous hall around us. The water under us start changing as well, from something that could be vaguely called water, into something else

"Look!" Gill says and point at the water, my hand flies to grip at his arm before he has time to turn and look at us.

"Don't touch them" I snarl at him. He yanks his hand back and stares at me.

He is terrified and I can see from the others' faces that they feel the same. Uma tries to play it cool, having heard many times what to expect down here, but I can tell that even she didn't expect them to look quite like this. I don't blame her, I didn't either.

On either side of the little boat the dead start to flow. Forward. Onward. There are elderly and young, teens, young man and woman, old man and women. Some wear the clothes they wore when they went to bed that night- having died in their sleep, some are dressed for a night out, for work, for training, naked or anything in between. There are no wounds on any of them telling how they died so it's hard to tell if what I am seeing are peaceful deaths of bad ones. Most have their eyes closed as they flow forward with the current. Some have their eyes open and searching and I find myself averting my gaze from them. Some primal fear telling me that no good could come from looking the dead in the eye. Still, I can't stop looking at the sleeping ones, the ones who carry on, eyes dancing behind paper thin eyelids as if in dreaming.

"There are no toddlers" Uma says and I can hear a certain relief and her voice.

"There are" I say and point to a further spot in the river, where a small boy, definitely under the age of three in death appears. We look at him for a moment before he disappears, flowing onward faster than any of the others.

"Where did he go?" asks Gill.

"Children flow faster" I say "Especially the young ones"

"Why?" asks Uma, she doesn't look at me, still gazing into the river and the endless flow of spirits around us.

I let out a long sigh, realizing that I will not hear the end of these questions until I explained, to the best of my ability the working of this river.

"Everyone, well, every humanoid that is, that had ever died flows through here, the old take longer than the young and those with really complicated lives can take even longer than that, but eventually almost everyone makes it through. They all have to come to terms with the lives they led, see this?" I say and point to the dreamlike movements of the dead's eyes under their eyelids "their lives are literally flashing before their eyes right now. And when they are done, when they accepted who they were and what they did to the world and to others- they reach the vortex and flow to the last light at the bottom"

"and then what?" asks Harry, I look to him and see that his face is as white as Charon's and for moment I wish I could lie and tell him something comforting about heaven or hell or reincarnation . But the truth is all I can give him

"Even we don't know" I admit

"So they just disappear?" asks Harry

"Maybe. Wherever they go it's not something we can control or follow. Most go on to the bottom. Some linger. That's what my dad told me anyway"

"What do you mean linger?" asks Gill with a blank expression and I am not sure if he meant the word or the act so I answer both

"Stick around" I say and he smile in relief, the others however don't seem satisfied so I carry on "unfinished business, loved ones, things they can't come to terms with. Spirits will fight the current for years before they are ready sometimes. It's not really up to good people or bad people. They punish themselves in most cases.a person could harm just one person and not be able to deal with it for a hundred years. It's all very personal"

They stay silent this time, maybe having no more questions to ask or maybe noticing my reluctance to answer them.  
I find my thoughts are drifting me away with the idea of a person murdering a hundred people but lingering around for just one death. You never forget the first one, my father said ..

* * *

I was fourteen when I came home one night as still as a dead man and with blood up to my elbows.

The memory is still blurry after all these years.

I remember that I left Uma's house after sundown and made my way home using my usual route of safer back alleys and roofs. I was half way home when my way was blocked by a man I didn't know. He talked to me and I tried to shake him off. He was asking all sorts of things that weren't his business, thing like where I was going or who old I am. Finally he had enough and made to grab at me.

It was then I realized he wasn't after my money.

Panic grabbed me by the scuff of my neck as he grabbed me by my arm. I remember he smelled like smoked meat and mold and I thought that I would choke on this smell if he stayed near me any longer. I felt like he would leave stains of motor grease on my skin and that I would never be able to wash them away. more than anything I couldn't realize why I can't scream.

He grabbed at my shirt and suddenly my mind went blank and clear as a bell at the same time. I ducked and drew my knife from my boot before he had time to react and made a deep long cut on his thigh. He shrieked as I tore his artery wide open. Blood gushed out of his leg and he drew out a knife of his own in his panic. But he wasn't fast enough and he was losing blood quickly.

I don't know how many times I stabbed him after that, but when I got home later that night the blood coated me like rain.

"What happened!?" my father asked when he saw me, his golden eyes searching me frantically for any injuries or wounds he would need to patch up. I never came home this bloody before. Bruises and small cuts maybe- squabbles were a normal thing on the isle, but this?

"I-" I stated. I couldn't speak and no voice came out. I lifted my dagger, still clutched in an iron grip, as a form of answer. It seemed to have been enough as he put two and two together. Then, he did something he rarely ever did- and knelt down to embrace me. His body was cold. He was always cold except when he was angry.

"It's ok" he said softly and I broke into tears.

This time only- he didn't tell me to get my act together; he was patient as he helped me remove the blood with a wet towel, quite and gentle all the while.  
There weren't any injuries save for a deep slash in my palm, where my own knife slipped on the blood and I cut myself. He chuckled at that and brought alcohol to keep the cut clean and ready for bandaging. We sat in the kitchenette and he dressed my hand slowly and carefully.

"You will never forget this one" he said "I hope he deserved it"

"He did" I answered, my words were cold and sharp like the edge of my knife, which was resting on the table beside me.

"Good" he said.

* * *

The sound of Uma shrieking wakes me from my thoughts. I shoot my gaze from the river to her just in time to see a something grabbing her arm. It is a hand; I realize with a jolt, see-through and with the shade and texture of smoke. its hold on her arm is as fierce as a living hand.

"Uma!"

Harry yells and rushes to her, sending his hook into the flesh and the Smokey hand with a brutal swing. The sharp tip of the hook moves right through the hand and makes a cold metallic sound as it slams against the boat's side.

"Harry no!" I yell and reach to drag him away from the water, just as a flock of smoky limbs reaches to grab at him.

"Sem!" Uma calls to me, he voice is high pitched with sheer terror.

The spirit is still holding on to the sleeve of her jacket, it's grip is desperate at it sinks shimmering nails into the fabric. It's a woman. Her bony face is contorted with agony, mouth open with a soundless cry. she is trying to board the boat.

"Uma let go of the jacket!" I yell at her.

it takes some maneuvering around but she shakes the thing off. It goes deep into the water, carrying the spirit with it.

"I didn't touch it!" she says, raising her hand before her as if to push her point, to calm me down. And I know she wouldn't have. Not after I nearly bit Gill's head off over the point. So why-

"Incoming" Gill says.

He stands ready with his sword and I see another couple of spirits reaching for us. The waking ones, those who won't dream away and drift on, are clawing at each other to reach closer to the boat and to us. I don't have time to think of the implications or the reasons for this. There will be a time for that later, but if they pull us overboard or make us tip the boat we are doomed for something far worse than death.

"Get ready" Harry orders, ditching the hook in favor of drawing his sword.

I urge myself to think. To figure out a way to keep them at bay and keep us safe. My mind and spirit are searching for any threads I could use to keep them away, anything at all. But all I find around me is the river and the boat and ourselves. Except for us anything around here is dead and speaks in the hushed tone of the dead. It feels like trying to scream underwater, making noise that goes nowhere and achieves nothing. They are dead and the magic of death will not halt them.

"Stay in the center on the boat" Uma says as we all move closer, as far from the river as we can without upsetting the balance of the boat.

I silvery hand grabs the edge and is pulled away by the current. Charon pushes on as if nothing in the world is so normal and befitting. Another hand grabs hold, and another one. Bony faces rise from the water, screaming with no sound, begging silently and try to pull themselves towards us. They try to reach for us, to grab at our feet, to pull us.

Think goddammit. There has to be something. You can't fight the dead with death that would be fighting fire with fire.

And then it hits me.

"stand back" I say and reach to a different set of threads. I reach for my own, for the warmth of my blood, for the heat on my breath. For the fire in my belly.

and that is all I need.

I was right in my estimations that the fire will be willing to obey me if I tried it. A blaze of heat and light erupt from my open palm , so bright and full of life that it makes me roar with sheer delight, laugh out loud as I feel the fire bursting from withing me, rising on my magic to turn from an idea and e memory into a real thing. It grows larger than I intended, a living pillar of fire coiling above me. I feel a familiar urge to follow the threads, to let them carry me far and away and lead me on. in this moment I things I could become fire, let it rise in my hair like my father's . but as usual, I stand my ground, control myself and control the threads I rule.

I look down and see that most of the spirits have let go of us from the fear of meeting the business end of my fire display. There are few that didn't, and for them I give a personal demonstration.  
I send a brutal arrow of flames to meet one of the hands still holding on to the boat. the hand lats go immediately and the fire blazes on the water for a split second before dying down. When I am sure that there are no more rogue spirits attempting close contact I cut the threads and kill the fire. it goes out in a smokeless puff.

Now this was something I did not expect to turn out quite like this. I am breathing heavy and my face feels flushed with the heat from without and th magic from within. I look to the others, They simply stare at me in disbelief.

"and you couldn't flash that one before I lost my Jacket?!" Uma yells, hands thrown in the air in frustration and bewilderment.

"Sorry" I say with a breathless laugh "I wasn't sure I could do that"

"Oh great" She says

"I thought I would need a fire source for that" I admit

"fine. you owe me a jacket" she says, but she is smiling all the same. I return the smile and she give my arm a friendly, even if strong, jab.

"Deal" I say and fall down to the floor of the boat.I feel breathless and buzzing with energy at the same time. The others join me quickly and I am pulled to a crushing embrace from Gill.

"That was amazing!" he exclaims

"Thanks" I say and pet his arms in n attempt to keep myself from being choked to death in this enthusiastic show of affection. I turn my gaze to look at Charon and let out a sight of frustration. He had been rowing on through the entire ordeal. Just another day on the river Styx.

* * *

The rest of the journey goes blissfully quite. Before us the gates open, black and claw like ancient things that swing to either side to let us through. Another curl of the river, and there it is- the castle.

My father's old home is built tall and shaped almost like a skull, with two windows letting out dim light from the inside. The river flows on underneath it and on either side of it. It is a island in the river of the underworld. The throne room.

As Charon brings the boat to a land I expect to see the fates waiting on the shore. Or my father's useless old henchmen Pain and Panic. I would even expect to find the place empty.

Instead there is something I did not expect waiting for me.

She is a tall woman, with skin the shade of granite, dark and flawless and unnatural in it's shimmering smoothness. He hands are lean an muscular and I can see nails so sharp they may as well be called talons at the edge of her long fingers. Her eyes are blood red and her hair is shades a similar color and tied in a thick plat at her back. Right between where two, enormous wings are protruding from her back, shaped like a bat's and with terrifying talonts at the edge and the main joint. She smiles brightly when she sees us, flashing a mouth full of sharp teeth.

"Semele?" she asks when she sees me. he voice sounds younger than I expected and brighter. She sounds friendly and relaxed as she reaches out her hand in greeting. Cautious, I stay by the others, comforted by the fact that I could always attempt to melt her face if I had to.

"yes" I say "and you are?"

She takes back her hand, her eyes understanding rather that affronted.

"My name is Alecto. I am a fury. My sisters and I have been caring for the realm since your father's departure" she says.

He name rings a bell. Alecto. The Relentless. Younger sister to Megara the grudging Tisiphone and the avenging murder. My father mentioned the three furies as beings that were neither enemy nor ally. They had an obligation to no one and nothing but the rightful order of the universe and the basic justice of it. He said he used to work with them on occasion, and try his best to dodge them on others. They came into existence from the blood of my grandfather Cronus and have been keeping the peace and punishing the guilty ever since.

"You have been ruling here?" asks Harry beside me, obviously not caught up on the whole 'general order of the universe' thing.

Alecto looks at him in confusion for a moment and it seems like she is trying to connect a name for a face before she answers

"No. my sisters and I have been taking shift as stewards"

"Where are Pain and Panic?" I ask. I look around, half expecting the little imps I father told my about to pop from under a rock any second

"Oh we keep them around, I hed them prep some place for you to stay and bring food from above, wouldn't want your friends to be stuck here forever, seems impolite" She says lightly. I can't help a sigh of reliefe at that and I can hear Gill muttering a thanks to some god or another at that. it's not that he is not as used to hunger as the rest of us, it's just that I always felt like he loved food than any of us put together.

" the underworld cannot remain unprotected. You saw how chaotic the dead are after years without a king" she says as she leads us.

"we have" Uma Says bitterly

Alecto gives her the same understanding smile before she turns back to me "We've been waiting for Lord Hades to come and take his crown back but… well" her words die on her lips and she looks to me. Her red eyes are warm as says

"Welcome home, Semele."

* * *

 _Author's note. I hope you have enjoyd this chapter!_

 _there were a lot of Greek mythology references in this one so let me try and make them clearer for those who didn't recognize them._

 _he rivers Styx, Phlegethon, Acheron, Lethe, and Cocytus all converge at the center of the underworld on a great marsh, which sometimes is also called the Styx. Charon is the ferryman of the river and in most myths would take you across for a proper pay. and would not talk much the whole way. I tried to follow the way disney designed him in the "Gospel Truth" Reprise in Hercules (i've been watching that one a lot recently for this chapter)  
the punished people Semele Describes are Pirithous (Punished for trying to kidnap persephone and being an all round tool) and Sisyphus (Punished for... a lot. mainly trying to cheat death).  
_

 _The furies are infernal goddesses and in a sense the embodiment of vengeance. they are often tied to Hades as they both have a common interest in keeping the dead dead and the wicked deader._


	11. Chapter 11: Goddess

_**Author's Note: nothing much to say this time. when real life's a mess- write what makes you happy...**_

 _ **no song this time. but some soundtrack!**_

 _ **Mahoutsukai no Yome / The Ancient Magus' Bride - Main Theme.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

* * *

Alecto leads us deeper into the castle, chattering away as she does

"I am just so glad to have some company!" she exclaims "I mean, my sisters visit and all and there is pain and panic but all in all it can get kinda gloomy around here sometimes/ you know… it being the underworld. It's full of dead people!"

I chuckle at that. I have a feeling she probably has no one else to throw these puns and jokes at, and that she must have been planning to do so for a while. I am about the answer and ask something about her work down here and what needs to be done. I want to ask about my mother's old night bloomers garden, the throne room and the armory and all the other places I heard of growing up. I want to ask her so much. But I don't get to.

A growl from deep within the caves stops me before I have time to ask any of my million questions. A deep, rumbling sound like thunder and a volcano erupting. It is the sort of growl and animal makes when it is on the dangerous line between fear and rage, the sort of growl that start in a deep feral space in a beast's chest, a place of fire and life, and ends with another poor creature losing theirs. I know who is making this sound. But I somehow expected him to be happier to see me.

"Is that?" I ask in a hushed tone.

We have all stopped now. Alecto looking deep into the cave where something dark and enormous is moving closer. Her face is a dark unreadable mask as she squints her eyes at the darkness.

"What is it?" asks Gill. He is quickly shushed by a look from Alecto and me.

"I guess for him you are just strangers" Alecto whispers. I look to her in disbelief. She seems so casual in her approach to the situation and I am too baffled to argue with her. There is a gigantic, angry, hellhound approaching from deep within the castle. Possibly to attack. And she is just... Standing there.

"what do we do?" I ask her, hoping that the calmness is a result of her having the whole thing under control.

Alecto seems to consider it for a moment before turning to me with a cheerful smile.

"No clue" she says, with a tone as bright as a sunny day.

Then, before I have time to argue or shout at her she spreads her enormous wings, and with a single beat of them takes into the air, sending a gust of air in my face as she does. She flies so quickly and silently I barely see her. She disappears into the darkness above us, leaving nothing wind and echoes in her wake.

"Shit" I say. There is simply nothing else to say. Rarely ever in life you get a situation in which a simple syllable could summarize everything so perfectly. Shit. shit. And shit again.

"do we attack it?" asks Gill, he might be asking for confirmation but he has his sword out and ready all the same. I look to the others and see that they are all equally combat ready.

The padding of gigantic feet sounds from the inner cave like the beats of an ancient drum. He shakes the earth as he walks towards us, his repressed growl echoing in my rib-cage.

And then he steps into the light. And he is more than I have ever imagined.

When we were young, on a nice day we used to run around the streets, holding sticks between our legs and pretending to ride horses into incredible adventure. There are no horses on the island, but given that most of us grew up on stories of these creatures being the general thing you ride into battle we all made do with random pieces of debris and a healthy dose of imagination. Mal used to tell us that she turns into a dragon, or rides a dragon and thus claims victory over whatever was the adventure we imagined. Not one to be left behind Uma exclaimed she was ruling over an array of sea monsters, from docile hippocampuses trough ferocious krakens, and all the way to scylla and charybdis (she was an imaginative child). One night after a very successful imaginary adventure I came home and asked my father what would he ride into battle. He said in the past he ridden a chariot, strapped to two nightmarish horses with bat like wings. I wouldn't have that. I wouldn't have that because all the other kids had imaginary horses and besides I wanted to be special. And so my father told me the story of his beloved hellhound.

He was the son of Echidna, the mother of monsters, and Typhon, the Father of dragons. How these two reptile parents gave birth to a hound was not something I bothered myself with as a child. Echidna was ambitious in her attempt to create perfect horrifying monsters, a project she attempted to improve with more and more heads on her children.

After she created thy Hydra, a creature with a potentially unlimited number of said heads- she had no more use for his younger brother, Cerberus, and so she threw the little pup out of sight and into the deepest pit she could find. The pit she found just so happened to be my father's young domain, shortly after being assigned to it by a stroke of bad luck and being the weakest of three godly brothers.

back then the three headed creature was relatively small, about the size of a small cow, with a wagging tale, three heads that only wanted to play with each other, and feet that were still to big for the pup's body. He raised the puppy here in the underworld, trained him to guard the gate and the castle, attack strangers and protect the rivers and the vortex.

The next day, and the days the followed, I ran into an imaginary adventure riding a gigantic hellhound. I imagined him fluffy with eyes that glow in the dark. I imagined him fiercely loyal. I imagined his fur really soft.

This is not the creature that stands in front of me now. No. the creature that stands in front of me now is so much greater than this.

The real Cerberus is much bigger than I could have ever imagined. He is probably 15 feet tall or even higher, it's really hard to tell with all of his three heads bent towards me menacingly. His fur is not nearly as soft looking as 6 year old me would have liked to imagine, It is a black so dark it seems to suck away the little light around it, like a black hole in the shape of a dog. His teeth are sharp and as large as swords, ready to tear, destroy, and kill.

Except those menacing teeth, I notice, are not fully bared.

"Harry, and Sem, I want you to create the distraction" says Uma in a hushed tone

"What?" I ask, I barely register what she says, too captivated by the creature that inhabited my dreams for as long as I can remember.

"so that Gill can go for the kill" She explains

"Got it" Harry says and I hear the hiss his sword makes as it leaves its scabbard to join his hook. I know the general drill, Harry and I are to fight but defensively, clumsily, make sure the enemy is too preoccupied trying to catch us to notice a the menace that is Gill with a sword and an intent to kill. We played that trick on other gangs, on shop owner and the like. There is no reason an adapted version would not work for a 20 foot high dog.

But Cerberus is not attacking. He is an intelligent creature, I know this. He is not just old- he is ancient, thousands of years my elder in here. His eyes are red, dancing between the menacing dark of blood to the fierce brightness of heated steel. They burn as they look at me and I know that these ancient eyes have seen everything that ever passed through this gate, watching over it at my father's side. And for the past 20 years this magnificent creature has been without the master who raised him. All alone on the underworld. They are wise and old, at this moment, angry.

"on my mark" Uma whispers beside me.

And scared. There is fear in these eyes to. He is an ancient being, one of the oldest monsters in this world and at this moment those ancient eyes are looking at me and they are scared.

"wait" I say

I turn to look at them. The three of them looking between me and the beast before us. They have their swords ready, and Cerberus has his teeth, three sets of them. And all 7 of us must look so foolishly terrified. This is not how I am going to rule this kingdom, I decide. If my father left me no instruction- he doesn't get to complain I do things my way.  
Drawing them as slowly as possible and unlatching my belt of daggers- I lay my weapons on the stone floor.

"What are you doing?!" Uma hisses at me

"He is my father's hound" I answer

"Sem, you heard the demon lady, he doesn't recognize you" Says Harry

I can't argue with him. mostly because , objectively, he is right. The hound doesn't know me, has never met me, and has no reason not to tear me to shreds like a puppet made of meat and bone. In fact, he has been specifically trained to shred anything that passes the gate without the Lord's approval. With the Lord dead and the steward gone- my chances are not great to say the least. And yet – I am still alive. We all are. I can't help but think that if all was lost we would already be dead. He was trained to attack and kill, and 18 years without a master should not have changed that. I turn to look at it, at those three gigantic heads with their teeth half bared.

I decide to trust my gut.

I take one step forward toward the hound before a strong grab to my wrist stops me. behind me Harry is holding to my hand with a painful death like grip.

"Don't" he says. his eyes are wide with fear, his hold is firm. I have never seen him so afraid and this display catches me off gurad. I planned to just wriggle my hand out of his but now...

"I need you to trust me on this" I say as calmly as I can.

"this is insane" he says.

"Sem, this thing would eat you alive" Uma says behind him

"We can take it" Gill agrees

"No!" I bite back. I try to shake my hand free but Harry stays firm. He will not let go. Not so long as Uma and Gill have his back on this. Not so long as he things he is saving my life. And maybe he really is, but now is not the time to discuss this.

I look to Uma instead. Trying, wishing, willing her to understand. Hoping that the way we could tell entire secrets to each other without words is still alive between us. That year of growing up have not ruined that. once upon a time I could reach her beyond words, some strange code that was completely non magical and yet so much more that that. I hope something of it is still there.

'please' I say with that look 'trust me'.

This is a long and agonizing moment that probably lasts about three seconds in real time. Eventually she lets out a defeated sigh before placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"we will be right behind you" she says

"What?!" Harry hisses "Uma, you can't be-"

"Harry" I say " I will be alright" I shift my hand to hold his hand instead of being gripped by it

"Please don't"

This is the closest thing I have ever seen harry hook to begging. It's uncharted territory and it is terrifying to look at. It's foreign and strange and heartbreaking at the same time. I feel an all consuming urge to hug him and kiss him and promised him that I know what I am doing. But I can't. because I have no idea whatsoever is this s going to work.

Reluctantly. As though is causes him physical pain to do so. He let's go of my hand.

"thank you" I whisper.

He doesn't answer.

With my friends behind me and my heart hammering in my chest I take a step closer towards cerberus. The enormous animal is staring at me intently, all it's heads are bent forward. He doesn't move. His upper lips are still trembling, showing monstrous teeth before calming for split second, back and forth, over and over. He hasn't quite decided if he wants to tear me to pieces or get to know me. I still have time to change his mind for the better.

I have to be right about this. Because if I am not then the others will never catch up in time to save me.

If I am wrong then this is where I die. I take another deep breath.

"It's ok" I say to cerberus before I risk another step forward towards him, slowly and carefully. I moved to fast. He responds by tensing up and flashing those teeth back at me. The growl is still vibrating off him and when it erupts out of him in a bark he shakes the walls of the cave.

"Sem!" I hear harry hiss behind me and I see cerberus tense even more. Baring his teeth, crunching his muzzle in a snarl of rage and panic. I say nothing, simply send my arm back, signal Harry to stop. To not come any closer.

I take another step, a smaller one towards Cerberus. I am now close enough to smell his warm breath, smelling like burned metal and, oddly, just like an ordinary canine.

I reach my other hand, the one not trying to hold my friends at bay, towards the animal. Willing him to just smell me. To just give me a chance. To not fear me.

"I know you are afraid" I say, my voice is barely more than a whisper but I have no doubt that Cerberus hears me "you've been here alone for so long"

After an agonizingly long moment one of the heads, the right one, moves to sniff me outreached arm. It stares at me in confusion for a moment before bending down to sniff again.

"I know you miss him" I say to the other two heads "I miss him to. But he missed you so much. He told me stories about you. I used to imagine playing with you and going on adventures. He never meant to leave you behind" I mean every single word I say. I just pray that Cerberus can sense that.

Soon the other two heads lean closer and sniff me. Now they don't just smell my hand, they small my hair, my body, my magic. They move close enough for me to touch but I don't dare to, not just yet. They keep smelling, sniffing, getting to know me and soon they relax. They sheath their fangs, their body relaxes from it's taut position into something that is not quite friendly, and yet no longer hostile.

When he is satisfied all heads got a good sniff of me he stands before me and waits. Those eyes, enormous pools of lava, are staring at me. Waiting. I know what he wants me to do and yet I am so terrified I can hardly breath.

I reach up my palm again, but Cerberus doesn't move to smell it. My heart is hammering in my chest and I am sure he can hear me, what with those gigantic ears and standing so close. I want to turn my head away, I want to close my eyes or stop breathing as I move my hand closer. But he wants me to trust him. He wants me to show him that I am willing to not fear him.

And so I place my open hand, slowly, softly, on the hellhound's fur.  
It's softer than I anticipated and he is as warm as I expected a beast of the underworld to be. I move it gently, burying my fingers in his fur and feeling the sheer power of him under my palm. This is absolutely magical. I let out the breath I was holding and it comes out as a sob of a laugh. I am petting Cerberus, I am not only not dead- I am petting the guardian hound of the underworld.

He relaxes into my touch, moving his center head to lean and give some weight into my hand. I reach my other arm to hold him as he leans closer to me. A giddy laugh erupts out of me when he nudges me with his gigantic head, nearly toppling me over. I reach on the tips of my toes to scratch him behind the ear, only to be rewarded with a lick from the left head that leaves my soggy and smelly but still laughing from the bottom of my heart.

"It's safe!" I call to the others "come say hello"

Expectedly- Gill is the first one to rush forward.

* * *

Harry's POV

Gill rushes past me to join Semele with the gigantic Hellhound.

Growing up with an elite hunter for a father Gill was always a bit of an expert about animals. Not in a way of knowing anything about them, no, he was still Gill and still very much a knobhead, but in a way that he just knew how to be around them, how to behave to get them to welcome him, obey him even. He knew his way around animals better than he did around people, knew not only how to hunt or kill them but how to train them, how to treat them, and in most cases- how to get them to adore him. it's one of the many things about my old friend that makes everyone around him scratch their head in confusion. How can a person who is an absolute moron in most things can be nothing short of a genius in others. I can't say I understand it either.

Anyway, it comes as no surprise to see him approach slowly to the creature, raise his hand to his nose and let one of the heads of the hound give him a similar all-over sniff before allowing him to reach high and scratch behind one of it's six ears. And just like that Gill, son of Gaston, became best friends with a three headed hellhound the size of a house. Of course he did.

I should find this funny. It is funny. It's insane and weird and the sort of weird bollocks that would still make an incredible story to tell around the table ten years from now. I should be laughing, or moving closer because for fuck's sake- there is a three headed hellhound before me that is just a few pets away from flipping on his back and asking for belly rubs.

Instead I stand exactly where I did when Semele made me let go of her hand, and I can't move.

My heart was beating so fast in the moments before Cerberus recognized her, so fast and so hard I thought I might be going into a heart attack or something else of this pathetic sort. In my head I saw the creature bite her, just her top half, leaving her legs broken like chicken bones on the ground. I saw it stump her and crush her to death. I saw it kill her a million times in the time it took her to get acquainted with the creature.

And if it did then what? What would I do if Semele died right here in front of me.

There is a part of me that feels like I would have drawn my sword and just… go for it.  
Why not?  
Attack the multi headed immortal monster. Because there a part of me that knows it would have been the only things I COULD do. That if she was to die I would throw whatever survival instinct I still have in me out the window and tried to save her. This thought is terrifying in its simplicity- I will lay down my life for hers. I thought I would do it for Uma, for my family, my sisters, my father, maybe even Gill. but Semele- that's new. And there is no point lying to myself about that.

"You ok?" Uma asks beside me. I look down to see that she seems just as troubled as I feel.

"Sure love, never better" I answered with a forced smile.

She lets out an amused huff as she elbows me lightly, just a short jab of her arm against my side. Strong but not painful. Physical proximity always been an easy thing with the two us. A way to support of show affection like a lean against one another, a stroke of the hair, a pat, a hug. Or a way to show frustration and anger- anything from jab like this one to a full out fist fight. It's a lottery with me, I am well aware of that. It's not sexual, that was just one time and was so weird that we couldn't speak for a week. No, touch and proximity with Uma is another form of speech. It's easy and natural and fluent.  
For example, this elbow right here is saying "Stop Fucking around".

"I don't know" I admit

"ok" she says "just so you know. I will wingman you if you decide to tell her that you love her"

It's a problem with Uma. Sometimes she can drop something like that on you and walk away. Leave you bleeding in the water for the sharks, that is if you are lucky and the shark isn't her. She does that in battle- quick and deadly and merciless. She does that in friendship to- honest, and brash, and no nonsense. She doesn't pull punches. Not even with her friends. Especially not with her friends.

With this remark she leaves me to stand there like a stone statue, before she quickly joins the others in the world's weirdest petting zoo.

If you decide to tell her that you love her.

Things were different from the moment we left the isle, I wasn't sure what but something woke inside me. inside Semele well. That first night when we made our way across the bay into Auradon territory was like nothing I have ever seen. She ruled the wind like it was nothing, and later the next night opened a door to who knows what and spoke to who knows what. And just now on the river… the image of her raising flames out of her open palms was the sort of image people would write songs about and makes stained glass off. I can still see her standing before the undead, bathed in light and warmth that reflects on the river and makes her golden eyes come alive. Her bright her looked like it was made of fire, or sunlight, or something even more divine that than either. It was in that moment, I think, it really clicked for me.  
She wasn't like me. I was the son of pirates. A thief on salt water, some mongrel made of violence and rum and that wicked sea breeze. I was human. One hundred percent, undeniably human. That elation she and Uma described- of feeling the air rich and alive with magic and possibility- I felt only a glimmer of it when I was on the open sea. But her?

It finally dawned on me- Semele was a goddess. Terrifying and beautiful and out of reach. Because the moment the we win, the moment she goes free of the isle- why would a creature like that ever want anything to do with the thief who had the most precious treasure in the world, her heart, and decided to just toss it away. Uma was right about one thing- I have been pathetically in love with her for a while now.

With a sigh of defeat, I make to join the others.

* * *

"Well done!"

I hear Alecto before I see her land behind us. He cheerful face is as bright as it has been since the moment I met her. she doesn't seem surprised to see us all alive and friendly with Cerberus. Impressed maybe, but not surprised.

"what, the actual fuck?!" Uma yells at her, the others don't seem to happy to see her either. I don't imagine I look any friendlier.

"watch your tone Uma" Alecto purrs with a wicked smile and this is about enough for me.

"No she won't" I say and I step towards her. Behind me Cerberus stops playing and takes a stand. I realize with a jolt that he is standing on my side. Strong in front of what he thinks must be my enemy. the feel of this enormous power on my side is intoxicating.

Alecto looks to the beast behind me, and to the group of furious pirates before her before she decided to do the smart thing, and whips that annoying smile off her face.

"you had to be tested" she says, thankfully serious, "the fates dictated three tests to make sure that you are who you claim to be"

"Don't they already know?" I ask, perplexed, the fates, by definition, were omnipotent- they knew everything. It's part of what made dealing with them so damn annoying.

"they do" Alecto says "But I don't"

"was Cerberus a test?" asks harry, he didn't join us in saying hello to Cerberus, sticking around at the back looking woozy and pale. Right now he looks just about ready to snap.

"and the river" says Alecto in form of agreement.

"we could have died!" I yell at her. fury is a living thing in my veins, feeling hot and ready to burst. As if to echo my rage Cerberus bares his teeth and let's out a low, guttural, growl

"and that would have proved you are not my old friend's daughter now wouldn't it?!" Alecto snaps back, her red eyes are wide as she turns them to Cerberus "don't give me that look" she tells the hound she shakes his head as a strange form of answer.

"so is that it?" asks Gill. He sounds hopeful, but I know the answer to this question even before Alecto answers. The God's are creatures of story after all, and what story has only 2 trials?

"No" she answers simply

"What's the third trial?" I ask, dreading what could possibly be worse that the river and Cerberus.

Alecto lets out a long sigh.

"you will have to jump into the Vortex"


	12. Chapter 12: No Regrets

**A\N: so this chapter includes smut! It was very difficult for me to write, and to be honet, I didn't enjoy writing it as much as I enjoy reading it, so I do hope it is any good at all… if it's not your cup of tea simply skip over the last part of this chapter.**

 **Hope you enjoy all the same.**

 **Song of the Chapter: Fire Meets Gasoline (Sia)**

 **N x**

 **Chapter 12: No Regrets.**

"you will have to jump into the vortex"

These words ring in my head throughout the entire evening and deep into the night. An ominous promise echoing within me like a second heartbeat.

Of course none of us take Alecto's new information laying down. The other's scream fro explanations, Uma probably yells something threatening made even more threatening by the boys backing her up as extra pair of muscle and brutality. Even Cerberus joins the commotions, barking at who knows what and making the walls shake around us as he does.

But I hear very little of it. I feel frozen, petrified with terror at Alecto's words. Into the vortex. Into the last destination of the dead before they go somewhere else even we cannot follow. Into the place that nearly killed my cousin Hercules. Into the place my own Father barely climbed out of.

This makes no sense, I will die if I jump in there, there is no other way. It's not like fighting off the dead of getting the guardian to acknowledge me- this is jumping head first into death incarnate. And come out? Come out how?

"why?" I ask, my voice is inaudible in the riot around me but Alecto, through some sort of mythic senses I cannot begin to understand, hears me. the bright smile I came to ascossiate with her in our short introduction is nowhere to be seen. Instead there is something melancholy in her eyes as she looks at me.

She turn to the others, opens her mouth, and shrieks.

It is the sort of sound that would haunt me dreams for years to come, that I am sure of. Her eyes are wide and her jaw is open as wide a a snake's unnatural and predatory, exposing a row of sharp glistening teeth. And the sound that comes out of her is sharp, high pitched, and painful. It is the sort of cry that could drive a person mad. It is the sort of cry that HAS driven people mad in the past, screaming their sins to them until they beg for those razor sharp talons to deliver them from pain.

The stone hall grows quite immediately. I can hear Cerberus whimpering softly in pain, surely that cry was far harsher for his hearing then ours.

The others just stare at her. terror mixed with shock and the last traces of anger and petty annoyance.

"right" she says on an exasperated sigh "if we have all calmed down"

No body is calm. She knows it, and yet she goes on. We are all on edge, Uma and Harry and Gill look just about ready to jump and tear her limb from limb and I am not sure I will even attempt to stop them if they go for it.  
She shoves her hand into the folds of her dark tunic in search of something. An inner pocket of sort from which she fishes out a simple ivory orb.

"here" she says and hands it to me.

I do not reach to take it "what is it?" I ask cautiously.

"A message" says Alecto "from the fates. No more tricks, I promise"

I look to her in disbelief and raise an eyebrow. I grew up on the isle, I know better than taking someone's word for truth simply because they said it is. A bemused scoff from harry confirms that he thinks the same thing. I am not sure Alecto understands she is dealing with thieves and thugs now, not gods and royalty like she used to. We all grew up knowing better than that.

She sighs, and reaches a long talon to her chest, marks a cross on her heart that leaves a simple, chalk like marks on her dark marble skin

"I swear on my powers, on my place in the creation as a force of vengeance, on my wings and my sisters- no lie shall come to you from my lips so long as you are under this roof as a guest"

"and no harm by your hand" I say. I know the power of this oath, I have been taught how to make a similar one, and I do not intend to leave cracks and loophole for her to exploit. Words have power when you deal with magic. And deals can rise or fall on phrasing.

There is a glint of strange satisfaction in her eyes at that. Pride maybe? I can't be sure. She smiles at me and repeats my words "and now harm by me or mine" she says "now, please?" she hands me the orb again, and this time I take it.

As soon as my hand touches the slick surface of the orb it comes alive. Turning in my hand it exposes an iris that simply wasn't there before, blood red and with a staring black pupil at it's centre. It's all I can do to not scream and drop the thing right there and then.

"holy shit" I say.

"what is it?" Harry asks and him and the others huddle around to look. They surround me as they stare at the eye, so similarly to how they huddled only a few days ago around the starlight map. I should really stop being the one that brings mystical trinkets for everyone to gawk at.

"gross" Gill says with a cringe on his face.

"what is it doing?" Uma asks as a thing ring of light starts glowing from the eye. Instinctively I loosen my hole on it and the eye begins to rise off my hand into the air, iris and pupil shrinking as it does. the light engulfs it whole, until a small orb of light is floating in front of us at my eye level. To low for the boys who both have to lean down, and just a little taller than Uma's comfortable line of vision.

My father told me about this, the strange mystic way in which the fates once told him the future he could not prevent. If he did I would now be princess of Olympus, instead of stranded for all my life on a deserted isle with no magic. From the stories he told I expect the orb to show something, images, a future, anything. Instead is doesn't it simply speaks, and the croaking voice of the fates emerges as clearly as though they were standing right before me.

"you didn't think we would Actually be there did you child?"

"this is so weird" Gill whispers behind me. I shush him with a sharp elbow to his ribs and look back to the orb.

"no. of course not" I say

"liar" the voices chuckle. Damn it. Again with trying to outsmart an omnipotent being. I should really learn to not attempt that by now.

"well done on your trials" says one of them. it's even more impossible to say which it which witch now that I can't even see them.

"thank you" I say with a forced smile.

"you have questions about the third" says one I am almost sure is the short stubby one.

"yes, I do have questions" I blurt out. I expect them to answer my questions, them already knowing what they are before I do, or simply tell me to fuck off. Instead they say nothing. They wait. A small shove at my back from Uma gives me a little encouragement to go on.

"you know who I am" I say "you know I am who I say I am, why do this? "

"do you?" asks one of them in a bemused tone "know you are who you say you are?"

"I- What?"

"the trials are not proof to us or the furies. The first one, the river, was to the farryman. The second is to the guardian. The third"

"is to the subjects" I whisper

"correct" they say in gleeful unison.

"will I die?" I ask, unsure what drove that question out of my lips but there it is in the open.

My father got out, but he was already a god. My cousin got out as well, and he almost had to give up his mortal life if my uncle Zeus wasn't one for cutting corners left and right. Any way you look at it there is no way for someone to go there and come out the same.

"once you step inside it" they say "you will belong to this place". And just like that I feel my heart sink.

There are so many questions I want to ask now, but at that moment the orb burst into a flash bright light, and disappears. I stare at where is hovered before me, to stunned to react.

"what did they say?" asks Uma, not giving me a moment to catch my breath.

"what?" I blink at her in surprise, she was standing right there with me, she even shoved me forward to speak to the fates when I was lost for words.

"I couldn't hear anything" she says "I assumed you did because, well, you were talking to it"

I look to the others, to Alecto, could none of them hear what the Fates said to me?

Harry shrugs "when you just froze we thought maybe something happened. It was really weird, it was like hearing only one side of the conversation"

"what did they say?" Uma presses.

And just like that I know why the fates made the communication magic the way they did. Why the left the answer to my ears alone and cut the connection before I could reveal any more details. Because if my friends knew what the fates said, if they knew that going into the vortex meant I will belong to the underworld they would drag me away back to the surface by my hair. Even I, with my pathetic need to assume the worst know it. They will never let me do this if they knew. They would fight me till I'm back and blue if they had to. By making the connection one sided to all ears but mine- fates are leaving the choice to me. and only to me.

There is no way in hell that I can tell them. Even if I am unsure myself- I cannot tell them the truth.

"they congratulated me" I say "about the trials".  
I see Alecto's face shape into surprise, I can't tell if she is out of the loop as well and so I carry on before she has time to add anything that might uncover the truth "they explained about the third trial as well"

"what did they say?" asks Uma.

"tomorrow" I say.  
I need to buy time, I need to catch my breath and just stop and THINK. Think about everything that happened and anything that might happen now. I can't jump into certain death right now. Not just yet. I need a full belly and some sleep and by all the gods- some time to think this through.

"Good!" says Alecto, beaming, "I was hoping you would say that, you kids look worn out"

I smile at her in gratitude "do you have any food from above?" I ask

"follow me" she says with a grin, and we gratefully do.

* * *

Pain and Panic. My father's old henchmen.

It's not that I expected much, not after my father telling me many stories about how utterly useless they were when push came to shove. It's just… I never expected them to fear me. The two imps won't even make eye contact with me. when we arrive at the small dining hall they are almost done piling food from the surface on large dark plates, laying them in the low table surrounded on all sided with comfortable (if old) pillows. They finish the work and scatter away as soon as they can to avoid me.

"they are charming" I say with dripping sarcasm.

"they are measuring you. They don't wanna push your buttons and find out the hard way you are just like your old man" says Alecto "anyway, don't mind them- there is plenty of food and when you are done just go down the hall there should be some rooms ready for you"

"rooms?" Asks Uma "why is the underworld equipped for hosting?"

That's a good question actually. What with most of the residents not needing sleep there is no need for the place to even hold more than one bed.

"there were guests here once. Orpheus, Psyche, pers-" the word dies on her lips before she can finish it. But I know what she was getting at all the same.

"my mother" I say under my breath.

"yes. Well" she says. The discomfort is palpable and I don't want to push her any further. So without another word I simply sit by the table and break myself a piece of bread, loading warm Moussaka on to my plate, the familiar scent bringing unexpected sense of nostalgia.

The others soon join me to eat in relative silence and Alecto soon excuses herself.

they all seem worn out and eat in the sort of silence that only a long overdue meal can bring about a table. Nothing but chewing. And it's just as well- because the last thing I want to do right now is talk. I feel like I have gone completely numb.

All I can think of is the vortex. The knowledge that if I jump I will never leave this place feels like it's gnawing on my insides. The knowledge that I will belong to this place. Like my father. Sure, I might be able to walk out on occasion, I'll be able to watch on the world, for a day a night- after all- he went to the surface often enough for all his schemes and plot. To meet my mother...  
But at the end of the day- this will be where I rest my head. My soul will keep pulling me towards this place until the sun and the stars and all the light in this world dies. I will belong to the underworld. To the dead. A monarch belongs to her people after all, just as much, if not more, than they belong to her.

I feel a warm hand on my own and the touch drags me back into the present, where I have to blink tears of frustration from my eyes.

Harry's hand touches mine gently and I realize I am clutching my glass of wine hard enough for small cracks to appear on the crystal. So much for playing it cool.

"what's up?" he asks.  
There is not point lying to him. he knows me to well for me to lie to him and there is no way in hell he would buy 'nothing', or anything else other than the truth. And the truth is not an option either because then he would take me away from here. And a part of me desperately wants to let him. A part of me wants to tell them the truth and let them take control of the situation, to lead the way, to save me from the need to choose to do this.

 _"the underworld cannot remain without a ruler"_ Alecto said and she was right. Trial or not the place is in ruins with only stewards to guard it. I have to do this.

And yet,

I hold Harry's hand in mine, feeling his warmth as it seeps into my freezing palm. This warmth. His abnormal body heat. The way he gives me this half of a smile that is just as warm as a full one. There is so much to live for outside of this place. My father would not understand. He called this place home he said it himself, he said

 _'I am death. And I am going home'._

Home.

To here.

I am on my feet and out of the dining hall before the others have time to react.

"Sem?!" Uma Asks, she tries to follow, on her feet as well and ready to run after me into the darkness.

"stay here " I say

"where are you going?!" Uma yells after me

"To find Alecto!" I shout bac "there is something I have to ask her!"

* * *

"Panic! Pain!" I yell when I see the imps at the end of the hall. I have gone completely lost trying to find Alecto in the maze of tunnels that is the underworld castle, so by now I take finding anyone, weird imp and all, as a pleasant surprise.

The green creature tenses and yelp and the sound of its name. it turns to me with wide eye and looks for all intents an purposes like the embodiment of his name. The purple one turns to look at me as well but seems to hold its composure better than the other.

"Miss?" asks Panic in a shivering voice

"where is Alecto?" I ask, trying to sound as commanding as I can. Alecto said they will be trying to figure me out. Better let the literal demons as little to work with as I can.

They exgange looks for a quick moment before answering in unison.

"in the garden" they say.

"Show me" I command, I reach with my magic into the fire around me, nesting in the nooks in the wall. I grab a hold of it and make it surge up, just for a moment, just as a tiny reminder of who am I and what I can do. They flinch at that display of power if only for a moment, before nodding and reluctantly, obeying. I hold back a sigh of relief as I follow them.

They lead me through several corridors and stairways, all leading upwards closer to the surface until finally we arrive at a double door in the wall.

"through here" Pain says and gestures with his small purple arm towards it.

"can't you go through?" I ask

"not without permission from Lord Hades" says panic in his ever shivering voice.

I can sense it. An ancient protective magic on the door that feels so familiar it's as though he is standing right there behind it. My heart surges at the thought, and I am so sure of my belief as I reach for the door and push it open. Leaving the imps behind me as I step into the night's garden.

He is down here somewhere. He has to be.

My mother's night blooming garden is more magnificent that I have ever imagined. I never dared asking questions about it, knowing that questions about anything that has to do with her will get me sulking silence at best and a beating at worst. I only knew it even existed because of a drunken remark my father made one night when he saw a resilient Devil's apple (or moor flower) growing through the cracked asphalt.

"the bitch loved those" he muttered "couldn't leave the damn place alone, had to grow her own damn garden on the roof".

With no sun in the underworld- my mother created a garden that thrived on magic, and blossomed in the cool darkness if it's eternal night.

The place is aglow with flowers in full bloom all around. They are not simply blooming- they are radiating light from their white petals until they seems like stars tangled in the vines. The vines climb over pillars made from the same obsidian rock the castle as the rest of the castle, but in the gentle light of the garden in looks as shimmery as broken glass.

There are moon flowers, evening primroses, jasmines, morning glories and some I can't even name. There are purple and blue water lilies floating in a shallow pond at the centre on the garden and soft tufts of purple pink blossoms dangling from the willow-like tree growing by the edges. Ivy grows wide over columns and benches, and fireflies (or something that looks very much like fireflies) dances idly in the fragrance rich air.

This is my mother's garden. The place my parent kept for their personal guests alone, not ever permitting entrance to my father's closest henchmen.

The magic was so strong that even years of neglect did not leave it in ruin. The magic that gave the garden life instead of sunlight is so rooted into the ground here I can feel like a warm hum under my feet, feeding the place life and being fed of its beauty and growth.

I am so at awe with the place I look right past Alecto, only to double take and see that not only is she there- she is not alone.

"Hello" she says and waves for me to come over.

Her guest is one of her sisters; there is not a question about it. The fury beside her on the stone bench is shorter than her, with a rounder face sharper eyes. She seems younger- but her sister all the same. They have the save coal black skin, the same blood red eyes, the same menacing wings.

"Semele, meet my sister, Tisiphone" says Alecto and gestures to the other fury "Tis, this is Semele, Hades's daughter"

Tisiphone, the avenging murder, smiles at me gently and extends her hand for a shake. Remembering my manners at the last second and the promise of Alecto for safety- I take her hand and shake is quickly. Her skin is freezing cold and it's touch gives me an involuntary shiver. It seems to amuse her because a shadow of a smile passes in these crimson eyes.

"It's a pleasure to meet you" says Tisiphone. Her voice is softer than her sister's, there is a gentle quality about her and a degree of calm that Alecto lacks. It's unsurprising, what with this one being the embodiment of the final moment of revenge and the peace of it, and the other one being the all consuming desire for said peace.

"you have you father's eyes" she says with a soft smile and I can't help but smile as well.

"thank you" I say brightly, deciding to take it as a compliment.

"is everything alright?" asks Alecto, her brow furrowed with concern.

"it this about the last trial?" asks Tisiphone

"Sort of" I say "did you hear what the fates say?"

"no" says Alecto "but I can imagine". Her melancholy gaze is mirrored in her sister's eyes as they wait for me to carry on.  
They know. Even if they didn't hear it with their own ears they know. Otherwise there is no reason for them to look at me like I am about to die. Not unless I really am. Which seems a bit absurd considering the fact that my father is bound to be here somewhere. With the three of us looking we will find him in the river before the morning, get him out, and re-crown the old king.

There would be no need for me to jump. I will be able to show him how far my magic has got. I will be able to tell him everything I wanted since he passed, apologise for not being a better daughter and scream at him for no being a better father. And then we would climb back up again and take on Auradon. We will save our family. We will save everyone.

"he is not here"

Tisiphone's soft voice is like a knife to my stomach.

"Tis, we talked about this, you can't do that to the non-guilty" Alecto grumbles and buries her face in her hands "I'm sorry, she does that sometimes-"

"does what?"

"she reads the mind of the guilty. She sometimes can help herself "Alecto directs those words as her sister in accusation, familiar anger between siblings over a repeated affront "and she oversteps"

"sorry" Tisiphone mumbles

"how could you know that?!" I ask, changing the subject "he died, that means he has to be here somewhere right? We can find him and-"

"is this about your father?" Alecto asks, clearly out of the loop.

"of course it's about my damn father!" I yell, anger rising, looking for a way out "he is down here somewhere, we could find him, the three of us the others will help, we could-"

"not anymore" Alecto says. She averts here eye from mine, true pain is in them as she looks down at the floor, or at the lilies or at anything else but me.

"what do you mean?" I ask

"I saw him when he came through" says Tisiphone "it was my watch when he died, as soon he rolled in here like any other soul, but I felt him"

"she reached for me immediately" says Alecto, her pained gaze still set on the floor, on some place in the not so distant past "I- I tired. But I couldn't"

"What do you mean you tired?!"

"He had his eyes shut" says Tisiphone. Her soft voice becoming colder. A warning. Not to hurt her sister. But I can't care about that right now. I need answers and if I have to wrestle them out of a fury so be it.

"he flew so fast I didn't have a chance to wake him" Alecto says, her taloned fly to her head and bury themselves in her thick hair, grabbing hold of it, almost as though she is trying to channel the rage and helplessness forum her voice. Hold on to something.

"He didn't try to stay?" I ask, my voice is coming out weak and pathetic to my own ears. I don't understand that. My legs feel numb under me and the fragranced air of the garden feels suffocating. I want to scream.

He didn't try to stay. He closed his eyes and went on to quickly for a fury to do anything. A being like him that was thousands of years ols, flowing on as fast as a child.

He left.

"He was content with his life" says Tisiphone "He had no unfinished business"

 **"I am an unfinished business!"** I yell at the top of my lungs. I bend down on myself as my word rip out of my violently. I feel like I might break the entire world right here and right now. Tear come to my eyes and I don't even try to stop them. I am to angry to even remember how to stop them. He left.

"I need him, what do you mean he had no unfinished business! I am right here"

The furies are silent as they let me scream out my rage. I let out a cry of pure rage and I feel my magic like an itch under my skin.

What if I let go? What if I let it rise out of me and destroy everything in sight? What if I burn everything and everyone and –

Cold arms wrap around me, drawing me closer to a strong embrace. Alecto.

"He had no unfinished business" she whispers "because he believed in you. He believed in you beyond any shadow of a doubt"

* * *

It's nearly an hour after I left the dining hall that I know what I got to do.

My father died with no regrets. He left the underworld to me. if I die tomorrow- can I say the same? Can I say that I will die tomorrow with no regrets?

the answer to this questions pulls me through the corridors of the underworld. I follow the thread of the regret I'll leave behind.

If tonight is my last night among the living, I know of one regret I don't wish to take with me into the vortex.

I knock on the door that Harry's thread pulled to and wait. I knock again and at the third knock the door open, showing a bare chested and ruflled haired Harry Hook.

"sem" he grumbles "you ok?"

"no" I say

"what's up?" he asks, he moves away from the door to allow me to come in. I look at him, at the man who broke my heart. At the man who will never forgive me for what I am about to do tomorrow. At my biggest regret.

The annoying truth is that no matter how much I tried I could never stop loving him. even as a scrawny child running around with Uma and Mal and Gill. Even as a teenager. Even as a hearbreaker, a user, a thief and a thug. I could never stop loving him. I can try to fool myself and call that pull physical attraction all I like but at the end of the day- if tomorrow is my last day, I will regret not spending one more night loved by this man. There are other regrets I can't control. I will regret no being there to see the fruit of our war, I will regret not traveling around the world with Uma. I will regret not being able to look King Ben in the eye as I crush his kingdom.

These are regrets I cannot fix tonight.

But this- here, this I can do.

Heart hammering in my chest- I raise on the tips f my toes and bring my lips to Harry's.  
his reaction is slower than usual, almost stunned, and for a dire moment I think that I have made a mistake, the somehow I have read all the signs wrong.

I move away from him and he just stares at me in bewilderment, beloved blue eyes as wide as can be.

"ok" he says

"don't you want to kiss me?" I ask, feeling foolish for ever having to ask that. He simply lets out a breathy laugh and moved a step back from me.

"of course I do. I'm just… you are a rollercoaster. And that's coming from me" he says

"you weren't used to be afraid of roller coasters. You've never even been on one" I deadpan.

"you know what I mean"

"why do you care?" I ask, now getting frustrated with myself and with him "I thought you were all for meaningless sex"

He looks at me then and there is something I haven't seen much in those eyes. Something that reaches into my chest and clenches my heart. Hurt. There is hurt in those beautiful eyes when he speaks again.

"I used to" he says "but I am not so sure anymore"

" what changed?" I ask, because maybe if he can tell me that I'll know what changed in me. what took this feeling for him that I steal can hardly call love and turned it into something that would be my biggest regret should I die tomorrow.

" you. I think" he says, simply, bluntly.

I startle at that, unsure what to say or do but he simply sighs, reached a hand to grab or scratch at his messy hair. Some sort of a nervous tick. A need to do something with his hands, to fidget with something.

"you were right, you and I are a mess" he says "but I used to think I can handle this mess, because you are incredible but guess what, so am I"

I can't help but smile at that. At the glowing confidence that drew me to him in the first place. He was always like living fire, like there was magic burning within him in a place that allowed to magic at all.

"I used to think I can handle you but ever since you stepped out the cage you are becoming something else"

"I am still me" I says, unsure what else to answer as hurt and insecurity take to bloom within my chest. Harry must see that. He reached his warm hands and cups my cheeks, lifting my face to look at him as he searches my eyes for something. He is looking at me so intently I feel as though I might as well be naked. I know how red I must look under this piercing gaze.

"you are more than you have even been before" he says "I just can't believe my luck that you would still want anything to do with me"

"why wouldn't I" I say, and then, in a moment of unparallel honesty "I don't want to regret anything"

He stares at me stunned for a moment "I don't want you to either. This is why-" he understood it wrong. I can feel him drawing away. His hands let go of my face. He understood it wrong. Demmit.

Before he has a chance to leave me and change his mind I decide to take control. My hands reach to circle around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as I force him to look at me. bringing my face inches from him I can feel the warmth of him against my skin, the scent of him that even miles into the belly of the earth still reminds me of the ocean and freedom and safety. I don't kiss him. not just yet. His hands circle my waist instinctively and I sigh in relief.

"I don't know what will happen tomorrow" I admit "but if I die without having at least kissed you one more time, Harry Hook, it would be my biggest regret"

There is no need to prod or nudge him this time. His lips slam on mine instantly in a hungry kiss. His hold on my waist tightens as he draws me closer and I feel like it would neve be close enough. Like I would never be able to truly get enough of him. he bites gently against my bottom lip and nearly growls when I open my mouth to let him in. I let out a soft moan and give him a small push, towards the small bed. He gladly obliges, laying me down and caging me in his arms before lowering his head to leave a trail of small nibbles and kisses up my neck.

I can feel his hardness when he presses against my thigh as he presses down on me and this time there is no hesitation. If this is my last night on this eath I want every inch of him for myself. I want it all and then some. His calloused palms caress my small breasts and he pushes my shirt up and over my head, breaking contact for moment before calming my chest back with his full attention. His mouth and tongue leave struggling to breath and in a self conscious part of my head I know that I am possibly being a selfish lover here but I just can't seem to concentrate on anything other than what he is doing.

An overwhelming feeling of want and desire washed over me when he removes his lips from my hard nipples and looks and my flushed face with a wicked smile.

"I missed those" he purrs "I missed those so much"

He kisses me again and I try to deepen the kiss my he lets go of my lips all to soon. Making quick work of my trousers he travels down to where I am wet and ready for me. gods be damned he is still looking into my eyes with this self satisfied grin. I love this smile so much, and knowing where he is leading now I can surpass a wanton whimper.

But Harry has all the time in the world, and that sound was nothing if not an invitation to drag in on as much as he can. Damn me and my impatience.

"Harry…" I whimper again, begging him to get on with it and give me what I want.

"give me a moment" he says, his lips are on my inner thigh now and his words are warm against the sensitive skin.

" did you forget where it is?" I try to tease back

Me chuckles and gives my thigh a soft bite, so damn close to where I need him.

"I want to worship you as the goddess you are. That takes time" and with that he bring his mouth to my core, and licks me like he has never done before. His warm hands dig into my thighs and he feasts on me, licking hard on my clit and sending my head riling. We takes his time with it, normally as passionate in bed as he is in a fight, this is a new kind of passion from him. he was right, this is worship.

"Don't stop" I beg "so close.."

I come undone around his tongue and he licks my clit until I feel raw and over sensitive.

I breath hard, trying to catch my words, my sense of space, anything other that the feeling of his sweaty warm body between my legs.

"When I become a goddess" I say between pants "I might need to make you high priest"

He laughs at that an kisses me again, hungrily. I can taste my own cum on his lips and feel his throbbing erection pressing near my entrance.

"all of you" I say "I want all of you"

"I was hoping you would say that" he says and rushes from the bed to where his coat his hanging on the door.

"you're kidding" I say

" f'raid not love" he says as he fishes out a rubber for one of it'smany pockets.

"that yacht really had everything" I chuckle

"anything that matters" he agrees. He tends to the rubber on his cock quickly before returning his full attention to me. he stop then, simply looking into my eyes with that gaze that can make me feel truly and completely seen. It used to freak me out but now, now I feel like I might never be seen again so completely by anyone again. There are words unsaid here, I love you's and and like. But they remain unsaid as I reach to cup him face and kiss him again. I pur all those unsaid words into this kiss. Every word that I should have said and maybe never will. And for a moment- I think he understands.

"no regrets" he echoes my words from before, a question. A confirmation.

"not a single one" I say.

He chuckles and eases into me in a sinfully slow manner. Giving me time to adjust again to the size of him, giving himself time to get himself together and not finish this before it even began. after a short moment of adjustment begins to move. I hook my lags around his hips and meet his grinds with equally passionate movements of my hips. His is losing control but I can tell he is fighting to take it slow. This is starting to get very annoying. He is trying the be a gentleman. I didn't fall in love with a gentleman. I fell in love with a pirate.

"Harry" I moan "just fuck my like you mean it"

"just getting started" he says, and something within him unleashes. He gives my shoulder a hard bite, the kind that will leave a mark tomorrow by right now makes me moan louder that I intended. I dig my fingernails into his back, surely leaving marks of my own as he pick up the pace and rides the way I want his to. He sets a nearly brutal pace One of his hands finds its way between us and his thumb is back on my clit, pressing and rubbing in tandem with his thrusts that seem to hit the right spot every time. I am whining and writhing under him and oh gods am I close now.

There is no telling which one of us comes first. For all I know it night have been together. All I know that shortly after a wave of pure bliss crushes over me, he slows his pace, and I can feel him cock still pulsing with his climax inside me, an echo to the pulse of my core.

"wow" is all I can bring myself to say

He shifts out and off of me and I shuffle to snuggle close to him on the narrow bed. Sweat and warmth and a quick heartbeat are shared things between our bodies. He reaches his arms and tugs me closer to him.

"You know" he says "I think I fell in love with you all over again when you punched me in the face the other day"

There are so many things to be shocked at. The fact he admits to be in love with me. the fact that he admits he has been before. I should be shocked. I should press him for answers. But there is no point to that. I know from the way he touches and from the way he sees me that he does- or at least that he truly and deeply thinks he does.

Instead I simply chuckle "I think I never stopped" I say "loving you"

His embrace around me tightens ever so slightly "it's always with violence with us huh?" she murmurs.

"the gods are a violent people" I muse

"and so are pirates" he agrees

"besides" I say "I can't say I mind you being the good kind of violent in bed"

"of course" he says "if I overstep you could always stab me again"

We keep making these teasing jabs and jokes at each other, sleepily, arms wrapped soundly around each other, until I drift off to the soundest of slumbers.


	13. Chapter 13- Trust

**A\N so this one marks the end of the first arc of this fic. the second (and last) ark would be shorter.**

 **song of the chapter:**

 **Johnney Cash- Hurt.**

 **enjoy!**

 **Chapter 13: Trust**

I am pretty sure it's morning, but there is not real way to tell. The room is lit with the exact same eerie light of the underworld as it was when I feel asleep. Some clock within me woke me up after my body had enough sleep, and I open my eyes slowly to see the marvel I thought I lost long ago. Harry Hook's calm sleeping face, his eyes dancing slowly under his eyelids, his lips, his long lashes.

I remember the lazy mornings we used to spend in our little hideout attic on the isle and a part of me wants to close my eyes and drift back to sleep, delay today's event for as long as I possibly can.

But delaying the jump will not make it any easier, if anything, it will make me wanna hold stronger to all that I stand to lose.

Last night was about not going in with any regrets, staying here will only make it harder to leave. Already I feel like moving from the safe haven of his arms is a near impossible task, but, reluctantly, I do it anyway.

As I fish around the room for my discarded clothes Harry stirs and eventually wakes. I tried to make little noise as possible and ended up being as quite as only I can (which is pretty damn quite) so I have to assume that my absence on the bed is what woke him. I am not sure why- but this thought brings a smile to my face.

"morning" he grumbles

"no idea" I say in an answer to a question the wasn't asked "I assume it is?"

He chuckles "toss me my knickers will ya?"I toss him his discarded underwear and he puts them on lazily "today is the day" he adds.

I look at him at button my jeans, laying on a bed in the underworld and I wonder just how much of him will I see after today. Will I see him at all? And what will I do when he inevitably decides to move on to a woman who is not the personification of death. What will I do when he chooses the ocean and freedom and LIFE over me and what I can offer a man like him. more than anyone I have even known Harry Hook is alive. Life and heat and passion are things that radiate off him like warmth from a flame. It's in everything he does, in the way he talks and fights and loves. It's what drew me to him in the first place and what made me unable to stop adoring him even as I wanted to pummel his face. This vitality of him is what drew me to him last night. This time tomorrow I will not have any life in me to give him in return. The thought of is makes me feel like I am about to choke.

"are you ok?" he asks.

"Sure" I lie

"Don't do that Sem… don't-" he says "what are you not telling me?"

He is sitting on the edge of the bed now, his eyes are fixed on me intently, as though if he looked at me hard enough he will be able to see for himself what was wrong. And maybe he can. But still I can't bring myself to tell him the truth, not all of it.

"I'm scared" I admit, feeling small and weak as I utter those words out loud.

His eyebrows shoot us for a moment, probably as taken aback at me admitting this weakness as I am at hearing myself say it.

"do you really have to do that?" he asks.

"Yes" I declare without even stopping to consider it. Not even giving a room for a single breath of doubt. I know that if I'll allow myself to even think about this, if I will allow myself even for a second to entertain the thought of running from this there will be no turning back. I am making the right choice. I am making the only choice that is not weak and selfish.

"ok" he says simply. He raises from his sit on the bed and walks over to me before pulling me into a warm embrace. His arms around me I breath in the scent and the warmth of him

"we are with you" he says "I am with you"

"I know" I choke out, hoping against hope that Harry can't hear the tears held at the back of my throat. The tightening of his hold on my tells me that he probably have, even if knows not to press me about it.

* * *

"Sem!" Uma waves at me from the table a we approach. She seems to have been awake for a while, the core of an apple resting on the table in front of her and another in her hand on the way to join it. When she catches a glimps of Harry walking behind me her brows shoot up and a delighted smile spreads across her lips.

"Hey Gill!" she yells into the corridor

"What?" I hear Gill yell back, followed by a clattering sound of his weapons dropping on the floor, and him trying to pick them up to join us.

"Pay up!" she exclaims

"What?" he asks as he joins the room, sword belt half buckled on, his bandana held in his teeth as he tries to join us against the need to get ready.

"I said pay up" says Uma in clea amusmnet. Gill's eyes shoot to me, to harry behind me, and back to me. then he groans in annoyance and fishes through his trousers for a single silver coin.

"Wait a second" Harry blurts "You bid against me scoring?!"

Uma bursts out laughing, catching the coin tossed to her mid air before it desapears in her pocket. I laugh along with her before rising and giving Harry a quick kiss on his cheek, only causing the others to laugh harder.

"sure, be all couple-ly, rub it in why don't you" Gill grunts as he sits across the table from Uma, reaching into the bawl for a fruit of his own. He devours the thing quickly like we all do, eating any fresh food franticly and quickly is a habit that will take a long time to die for all of us.

I sit next to Harry in that short breakfast, savoring the way he tugs me to lean against him, claiming this familiarity that we haven't got to express with each other in a while.

We chatter away the morning, talking about yesterday's events, the other making jokes at Harry and me until he has enough and yells at Gill to make another joke if he is feeling lucky this morning because;

"if you wanna die this is a good place- saves you the travel".

And just like that it's as though someone dunked a bucket of ice water on my head. Bringing me back from this dream of a lazy breakfast with my friends and a lover by my side, back into reality. And the reality is that we are sitting in the underworld, and today I would have to sign myself for all eternity for rulling this place. The truth is that this might as well be the last lazy breakfast I have with this. It should make me want this moment to never end. Instead I feel stir crazy, itching to get it all over and done with. Like pulling out a piece of broken glass from the flesh- do it slowly and it will only hurt more, don't do it at all and your arm will rot off. Do it quickly, do it clean. Leave it at that.

"Sem" Uma whispers softly, her dark hand on my pale one across the table. The boys stop their bickering at once to look at their captain. "I just wanted to say how proud I am of you. I can't believe you are actually going to do this. You are actually going to be the first one of us to become a queen" her smile is radiant as her palm squeezes mine. I need to tell her. she thinks this is all good and dandy she has no idea-

"three cheers for Semele!" Gill shouts suddenly "Hip hip!"

"Horry!" they all answer cheerfully, fists is the air, a half eaten pear. Harry's arm tight around my waist. I have to tell them. They need to know. They need to know I will not live through this.

"Hip hip!" Gill Exclaims

"Horry"

they need to know I will not be returning to the serfice. They need to know it's fine. I am okay with this. They can't change my choice but still they are here and they are the only thing I have left that resembles a family. They deserve to know.

"hip hip!"

Come on. Tell them. Just say it. Tell they how much you love them and that it's because to this love that-

"Horry"

I can't tell them. I rise to my feet in an instant. Before the others can ask what's wrong I call for the Imps.

"Pain! Panic!" I bark into the air, knowing that my words are heard loud and clear.

"yes miss?" the green Imp asks at it skitters from across the corner

"what is it miss" asks the other one as it quickly follows.

"Get Alecto, and Tisiphone if she is still around" I command. I lean down and lift my jacket from the ground, zipping it on in an effort to busy my hands to keep them from shaking. I focus on tasks. Simple ones. To not look at the others. Not look in their eyes. Get it over and one with- just like the glass.

"what should we tell them?" Pain enquires.

"it's time to crown the new queen"

* * *

I wish it'd taken longer to find the furies and bring them here. I wish it'd taken longer to walk here. I wish it'd taken longer for me to make it to the edge.

It didn't.

From the moment I ordered Pain and Panic to fetch the Furies it took them all of 3 minutes to get to us. All three of them were here, Alecto being the Eldest and the tallest, Megeara the middle sister introduced herself quickly and curtly, and Tisiphone, the youngest and the shortest.

Pain and panic followed closely at their heels as they led us to the vortex at the base of the castle. It was a short walk, only a few minutes town the spiraling stairs to lead to the place where all life ends.

All the stairways in the castle lead here, they said, in case there is something wrong that need to be taken care of quickly.

I wanted to ask them what could possibly go wrong with the pit at the end of the known existence but I assumed I would know the answer soon enough.

I should have said something more. I should have told the others the truth or said goodbye. I should have hugged Gill one more time. I should have kissed Harry one more time. I should have hugged Uma one more time longer and harder. I should have done a lot of things.

There are spikes of obsidian rock rising from an unseen bottom. The eerie green stream of souls spiraling down into the centre of the vortex. a strange display of death and the acceptance of it. My father made this way down twice. Once as a captive monarch in this realm, once as a dead man like any of the others.

At the bottom of the vortex, so far away it makes my head go dizzy- I can see a shimmering light. It's probably as bright as the sun once you actually float near it, but from this far it looks small and flickering like the palest of stars.

Some of the dead are still fighting the current, their eyes are wide and searching and I know I will have to fight them all, once I am in there. I will have to thrash and, and beat and shake them off in order to get back here. But they are so many. There is so much human misery is in this vortex. So many of them cannot accept it, so many of them are fighting a futile battle to remain in this pathetic state of un-living. And me? I can hold my own in a fight- but this is not a fight. This is the feeding time for the dogs in the dog fights and them tearing each other to get first bite. This is tossing a glistening jewel to a crowd of beggars and them stabbing each other to grab at it only to find it's worthless plastic. It's not a question of will I lose- it's a question of which one of them will take me out first.

I don't have the power to fight so many.

As I look into the swirling stream of endless death and defying misery I feel something within me crumble to dust. I am still standing tall, half a foot from the edge of the vortex. All it would take is one step and it will all be over. For a single bleak moment the idea seems almost like a comforting one. I'll let the current carry me away. I'll leave everything behind and just sleep my way to the bottom of the river Styx and not have to worry or hurt ever again.

My feet edge forward. Come on. Just one more step. Get it over with. Like the glass.

Someone catches their breath behind me.

It's the slightest of sounds and I have no idea which one of them made it but it stops me in my tracks.

I don't want to go.

I will be leaving this behind as well. Breathing. The person drawing that breath, whoever they are. I will be leaving Gill and his smile which can brighten up a room in a second, I will be leaving Harry and all warmth and life he brings into every aspect of his life, the way he makes me feel seen and important and safe and the future is wild and exciting. I will be leaving Uma, who could make me and her entire crew feel like we have a place in the world to call a home and a people to call a family. I will be leaving them. I will be leaving lazy breakfasts and drunken bar fights, stargazing on a warm night, the freedom of running on a rooftop, the joy of dancing and loving and hurting and crying and living. I will belong to the dead.

My knees buckle and I hit the ground with a small thud. My heart feels as heavy as a dying sun in my chest and I know that there is absolutely no point trying to stop the tears as they come because I don't want to lose all the things I can live for. It's selfish and disgusting but I want to _live._

"I don't wanna die" these words come out of me in the smallest of whimpers "I don't wanna die" I am not even sure they heard me so I repeat them "I don't wanna die!". Over and over and over. They become a prayer for salvation.

After a few moments I feel Harry's arms around me as he drags me gently from the edge of the pit. When me are in a safe distance he hooks an arm under my knees and another supporting my back as he picks me up. I clutch to his shirt as I sob and keep my eyes shut, can't bring myself to look at Uma or the furies. Can't bring myself to look at the people I let down here today.

"I got you" He murmurs, his lips touching softly to the top of my head as he does "you are not going to die"

We are joined quickly by Uma and Gill as we go back to sit upstairs. And I have no choice but telling them the overdue truth.

* * *

I end up telling them the truth about what the fates said to me. I end up telling them about how I went to look for Alecto, hoping against all hope that my father's last words were some sort of strange hint I failed to grasp. I tell them that he left for good and left to hints, no last minute wonders. Just a wholesome fate in his daughters and an empire to take over. And the price that is would take. They all sit around me, Uma listens intently and her expression darkens as I go on. Gill has a worried look in his eyes and he constantly shifts his gaze between Uma, Harry and me, as if trying to figure out where is the wing blowing in this group- who to be upset with. Harry… Harry is as still as I have even seen him. he moved away from me half way through the story- the absence of with warmth a physical pain as he moves to lean by the wall, his eyes are looking anywhere but at me.

"I wanted to tell you" I admit "but I figured the fates meant for me to keep is to myself"

"why" Uma asks

I pull my shoulder "because if they wanted you to hear it they would have made sure you could here it"

"No, I mean why did you decide to listen to a bunch of hags and lies to us" she snaps

"It should have been my choice"

"and what- did you think we would drag you to the vortex?!" she bites back.

"no" I grunt "I thought you would do the opposite, that you would try to drag me out of here!"

"it's called saving you Semele!" she says is exasperation "and of course we would have! We wouldn't have made the fucking journey if we knew the cost of it was you dying!"

"it's not dying, it's just… belonging here" I try my best to explain but uma simply huffs out is frustration. I can see harry roll his eyes at that.

"it there a difference" Gill asks. He is more serious now than I have even seen him. somber and heavy. I can't tell iif it's a rhetorical question or not. Not with him.

"I don't know" I sigh "I truly don't my father could leave the underworld"

"but he was still chained to the place" Gill says "You said so yourself"

There is a heavy silence is the room as we all try to think about what to do or say next. They are pissed off with me and honestly I don't blame them. But it's not like there was any way around it. Not if the choice was to stay mine.

"it was my choice to make" I say "I will have to do it eventually, one day, you know it as well as I do"

I can see a flash of pain in her eyes as she turns her head away from me sharply. It's a childish gesture that tells me all I need to know. If course she knew this she is a descendant of Olympus just like me. she knows a thing or two about divine destiny.

"fine" she grunts "it's your choice. Great. You could have explained yourself"

"you would have tried to stop me!" I say, hands rising is the same tired exasperation. We have maid a full conversational circle. Great.

"and if you would have been whole with this decision I wouldn't have been able to! If you really wanted this and fought me for ths, if you just fucking talked to me!" her voice cracks and I see that her eyes are full of tears, her face is flushed with rage and hurt but she carries on "I would have stood by you regardless, I would have fought you for this, I would have done anything I can do to save you but I can't do that if you don't trust me"

"I do trust you" I whisper, taken aback at Uma's rare display of tears.

"of please" it's Harry's turn to bite at me now, from his leaning post by the wall he looks to me and his voice is practicly dripping with venom.

"you never ask for help" Gill says "you still don't trust that we would be there if you need us"

"you think you are being selfless by not telling us about the things that hurt you" Harry adds "but really, it's just you being selfish and protecting yourself"

Selfish. For not burdening them with my problems?  
the thought is nearly incomprehensible and for a moment I almost shout back at them and argue some more. Bite some more. Hurt some more. But as I see Uma whipping at her eyes, Gill looking between us like a lost puppy, and Harry as still as a wounded person the stupidity of my actions hits me like a herd of wild horses. I have done this. I have hurt them like this. Not my problems, not the underworld, or Auradon, or our parents- me. I have hurt the people dear to me most in this world by trying to keep them away from the things I feared would hurt them. This is not selflessness. This is cowardice.

"I'm sorry" I murmur "I am so, so sorry you guys".

I look to Uma, her eyes still glistening from unshed teas and my hearts feels like it might cave in of itself. I have done this.

I raise to my feet and cross the short distance to her is seconds, holding her in a desperate hug and refusing to let go. To my unending reliefe, she clutches unto me and hugs me back. My cousin. The girl who may as well be a sister to me.

We are quickly joined my Gill who hugs the both of us tightly with large arms- an absolute sop for group hugs that he is. Only Harry stays away, and his absence is a living thing between us.

"can you forgive me" I ask after finally letting go and being let go of this bundle of arms and friendship.

"of course we can" uma mumbles "we are still pissed at you though"

"fair enough" I chuckle.

"and you?" I ask, turning to look at harry. He hasn't moved. I try to will myself to move closer but it's as if there is a wall between us, a distance that cannot be crossed.

He pulls his shoulder "I thought you've changed" he sighs coldly "but turns out you are still the same girl who thinks that takes no risks and calls it streangth"

It hurts. It feels like a punch to my gut but I force myself to keep my head up and talk to him.

"I will try my best to change this" I say

"I'll believe it when I see it princess"

And with those words he leaves into the corridor. The room grows dead silent in his wake, followed my the violent slam of a door down the hall. His door.

"give him time" Gill says, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder as he does.

"yeah" I agree "maybe"

* * *

Uma instructs the boys the pack up and be ready to leave as we pack up the upper world leftover food for the journey back up the steps.

We do this quietly, barley talking to each other as we keep our hands busy. There is nothing else to say after all, and neither of us are in a talkative mood. We will have to figure out a while new plan for taking down Auradon, and we would have to do is without the rest of the crew to support our plans.

As I pack a bunch of apples and tie them together with a cloth I found, I hear Alecto coming nearer.

She, also, has been avoiding me since the moment I gave up on the trial, but I didn't miss the look of utter disgust she flashed me when Harry carried me back here. I can't blame her, I am feeling just about worthy of that look right now.

But as she approaches from the shadows, wings tucked tightly at her back, she seems almost hesitant, her bright smile is coy and half hearted.

"Hey" she says with a wave of her clawed hand.

"Hey" I answer, waiting for her to get on with the reason she came to see us. She eyes the food we are packing and raises hey eyebrows in confusion.

"that's a lot of food" she remarks.

"it's a long climb up" says Uma.

"you know" Alecto says as she lowers herself to one of the pillows "I was going to offer to portal you back to the surface"

I start as that "Portal?!"

Alecto pulls her shoulder dismissively "you didn't thinks we take the boat every single time did you?"

To be honest- I did. But I think it's better not let her know that for fear of never hearing the end of it.

"thank you"

She waves her hand in dismissal "not a problem"

"no. really" I say "thank you. For everything".

I think she understands that I mean much more than the portal, because her expression darkens as she exhales on a long sigh.

"there is something I've been meaning to tell you"

"what is it?"

She turns her gaze to Uma, clearly hoping to keep this between us, but I have had just about enough secrets between me and my closest friend.

I shake my had "no way" I insist "anything you wanna tell me my captain will hear later anyway"

I look to Uma and see that her smile is as bright as a young sun, and the feeling of my heart growing lighter tells me that even if Alecto refuses to share anything- I have made the right choice now.

Alecto takes in the exchange between us and sigh again, shaking her her as she does

"Fine" she says, then after a lingering moment ; "I lied"

We both stare as her, dumbfounded. I try to think through everything she said, trying ti figure out which one was the lie and how the hell did she menage to lie to be despite making a magical vow not to. I can feel the gears in my brain working into overdrive.

"Ok. About what" Uma demands impatiently, saving me from the need to figure it our myself.

"before you get your feathers in a twist" Alecto attempts to calm her "know that I did that before making the oat not no. I said I needed the trials to know Semele was who she claimed to be. But that was a lie, I knew she was Hades's daughter from the second she stepped into the underworld"

I blink at her in confusion "How"

"That's the weird bit" Alecto shrugs "People… gods… anyone who uses magic has their own unique scent to them. I am sure that in a few years you will be able to pick it up on your own. My point is- your scent is exactly like your father's"

"What does it smell like?" I ask, the notion lighting a wild curiosity deep within me, a childish excitement despite my best efforts to treat Alecto's lie with all seriousness.

Alecto smiles at me and I suspect she can see right through me into that strange giddiness I try to hide. "Let's see… like smoke, like rivers of fire under the earth's crust, like blood, like moon-flowers, like cold air in deep places, like endings and stories, like tricks"

"Endings don't have a scent" Uma remarks dryly

Alecto makes an annoyed face at her and take a fast, primal, sniff in her general direction

"You on the other hand smell like the ocean, firecrackers, rum, like-"

"I don't get it, why me smelling like my father is strange?" I stop her to get her back on track, and, in part, to prevent her and Uma from picking a fight with one another.

"Because you are not only your father's daughter are you? Your mother smelt like what you would expect a goddess of spring to smell, fresh earth, flowers, newborns, that sort." She explains "Your magic should exist as some sort of a mix of pure life and pure death. Instead you carry in you only magic of your father. It's strange. you don't carry anything of your mom"

"Good" I say.

Alecto's face grows melancholy as she stares at me for a short moment.

"They were happy once, you know" she says, her voice soft.

She is right. I know she is right. My father never spike of Persephone, as if the very mention of his existence could cause him physical pain. I know all to well that the only way a person could cause you this much pain was if you truly and deeply loved them- the only people who could break your heart are the people who had access to it to begin with. My hand reaches on it's own and grasps the pomegranate locket around my neck, holding it tightly in my fist as I whisper "I know"

"I want to ask you something" Alecto says, out of the blue, dragging my attention back to her. I don't respond and she takes it as a sign to continue. With one of her sharp talons she reaches for the hair as the back of her had and cut's out a lock of the deepest red hair.

"When the time comes- call me. Use this to find me and call me to you." She says as she hands me the lock of hair "Me and my sisters will be there to fight"

"You would do that?" I gawk at her. By my side Uma stares at her with the same disbelief. The furies, all three of them fighting along with us to bring down Auradon, I don't even know what to say.

"Of course" she says simply, her hand still holding the Lock of hair for me to take. Slowly I reach for her hand and take it. Holding to me and focusing on it ever so slightly I can feel the way it still connects to it's owner- even now it my hand. Alecto has handed me a thread to get to her- no matter where I go or how far- my magic will be able to reach her.

"Why" asks Uma.

Alecto lets out a long, weary, sigh at that "When you refused to jump, you chose them over this place. I wanted to be angry with you. I wanted… I wanted to scream. To push you in. but I didn't. And it pissed me off but I understood why you did it" she looks to me then and her smile is heavy and tired as she continues

"Your father was one of my closest friends . I know that family isn't always the people who are blood, but My sisters and I came to exist from the same moment of violence of family against family, it's the sort of crimes that makes my blood sing with the need to hurt. I am a spirit of vengeance after all aren't I?"

Her and my father. An ancient friendship torn apart by Auradon's pride. Suddenly I understand why she tried to fish him out of the river, why the fact she wasn't able to pull it off caused her so much pain. I feel shame rising in me at the way I blamed her and screamed at her the previous night. He fists are shaking now will long overdue rage but she goes on.

"your father was family to me. And they killed him. and I don't know how, they shouldn't have been able to magic barrier and all, I know him he shouldn't have been taken down by something like this!"

"Alecto" I whisper, touching her hands softly in an attempt to stop them from shaking.

She lets out a dry laugh at that and loosens her fists, her hands touches mine for a brief moment before she sets them back in her lap- her compositor regained.

"What sort of spirit of vengeance would I be if I can't even avenge my family?" she asks with a brightness that doesn't reach her eye.

"I promise you" I say finally "When the time comes- I will call you to bring hell to them"

The smile she gives me in return is the stuff of nightmares, but to me- it speaks of endless possibility.

I look at Uma and see a similar expression mirrored in her eyes.

"well now we got to find a way" she purrs "we can't disappoint the entire isle AND three goddesses of vengeance"

* * *

 **A\N: remember I said that Sememle need time to cope with her grief? I tried to build this fic (for the most part) around the five stages of grief. Part of the last stage, acceptance is understanding that you need help, and that it is ok to ask for it. For me and for my protagonist it is the hardest part, and it took me literally shoving her to the edge of death before it felt right for her to say that she needs help and support. I know it might have been tedious but honestly I am glad I took the time to explore that.**


	14. Chapter 14- The Grey Zone

**A\N: I am sorry they are taking me so long. I have other projects that demand my attention plus I had a major writers block (cured by having to write a speech for a wake me and a couple of friends held for a fictional character we loved from another fandom... so yeah I love writing depressing shit.**

 **I must say I was struggling to write the kingdom of Auradon outside of the school an capital. I decided on a design of one of thos super rural villages that are definitely modern- but also in the middle of the corner of nowhere. I've spent a few days in one in wales and I loved it. don't ask me the name I can pronounce it. I hope you like it**.

* * *

 **Chapter 14: the grey zone**.

There are many things we heard of while living on the isle. Things we knew that exist in the world outside the magic barrier but never actually seen or tried them for ourselves.

Some of these things were big, like magic and all that ties to it, and some were small; like chocolate, fresh fruit. The list goes on and on really.

Traveling by portal, was one of those things that existed in the grey zone between those two lists, and even as Alecto opened it in mid air I didn't know if it was something big like the communication magic I attempted on the beach, or something simple like the wind and fire which came to me like second nature.

The portal itself seems like a ring of dark smoke swirling in mid-air, creating a large oval shape the size of Alecto herself. On it's other side, through the haze and the mist I could see faint rays of morning sun from the world above.

"in you go" Alecto exclaims, holding out her hand in front of the portal, magic flowing through her and keeping the gateway wide open for us to walk through.

I look at Uma for approval but she doesn't wait. She turns to Alecto with a bright smile;

"Thank you for everything" she says with a brief nod of her head, and then she jumps through the gaping hole in the air.

"You're welcome" Alecto muses, smiling at the ease in which Uma danced her way through such an unfamiliar experience.

One after another we step through the misty portal back into the world above. One after another we leave the underworld behind us. I mean to step into it immediately after Harry disappears but something holds me back. Something keeps me from stepping through and away from the realm I dreamed of for so long. I stop in my track and look back at Alecto, at the underworld, the dark castle illuminated by the eerie light of the torches and the river. I take a deep breath of the cold air in the belly of the earth and take in the kingdom that was almost mine, can't help but wonder if I will see it again before I flow in with the river- dead myself.

"you will be back" says Alecto, as if reading my thoughts.

"I know" I mumble. I will be back- one way or another, as a denizen or a ruler- I will be back down here eventually. The thought is morbid and yet, for some reason- oddly comforting.

Before I have the time to leave or say something else, Alecto reaches forward and extends her other hand to me. She smiles warmly when I take her palm, scoffing softly before adjusting her hold to grip my forearm instead. At first I am not sure what the hell is she doing but after a second understanding dawns on me. This is a warrior's handshake, and an acknowledgment of me as an equal. Her grip is firm and her smile is soft and I don't know what to say to I simply grip her arm in return.

I just stand there for a moment stunned at the gesture and look at her. She smiles at me and her smile dances on the line between exploding excitement and the dark melancholy. It's a smile that, for some reason, I feel like I have seen before. Something inside me feels like it has known this woman longer than two days, have known her for as long as I have been alive, maybe even longer. I feel an overwhelming urge to hug her, or to ask her about my magic and what she told me the previous night but before I have a chance-

"remember what you promised me" she whispers.

And just like that, she pushes me through the portal and up to the world above.

Going through the portal feels like walking through a sheet of ice cold water, I shiver violently as I pass through it, the chill setting into my bones and making my entire body tense up, before I am greeted with the sun of the world of the living- which in that moment, is the brightest thing I have ever seen.

* * *

 **4 days later.**

The boat had to go, for obvious reasons.

We left it as far as we dared to swim from at sea and I set fire to it with magic before jumping into the water with the others. There was something incredible cathartic about it, letting loose, or at least as loose as I dare on the vessel and burning until there was not a single corner intact. As soon as the thing was sure to go down Uma sent the waters on it and dragged it to the deep to be lost and forgotten.

We swam to the shore, paddling and holding on to as much of the equipment as we could carry, Uma swimming circles around us to make sure no one was going under. We didn't speak; we didn't make a sound save for the gasps and heavy breathing as we made our way to safe land. I assume it didn't take as long as it felt, but by the time my legs touched earth I was aching all over and shaking with cold and fatigue. We stayed hidden on the shore that night, quite as the grave and somber. None of us wanted to think about the next stage in our plans, but glancing at Uma and Harry told me that their minds were racing all the same. Captain and her first mate wracking their brains for the next step, the next move.

I kept the fire alive as long as I could keep my eyes open, a small token, my need to be helpful. It didn't help much- the feeling that I have let everyone down still gnawed at me like a parasite. I looked for Harry's eyes for as long as I dared, hoping against hope to catch a glimmer of kindness from this man. The man I couldn't lie to myself anymore about loving. The man who refused to give me the kindness I wanted. He was angry. And when we was angry he had two options- pummel the thing that caused him this rage to the ground, or sulk with the bitterness of not being able to go with option one. Of course over the year he had to develop other options- talking things over was a rarity, making a joke of the whole thing less so. However, no matter how much he grew up- he never let things that pissed him of just go. Villains were phenomenal when it came to holding a grudge, and Harry learned from one of the best. He had every right in the world to be angry with me- what with me confessing my love to him only because I thought I was going to die, and of course keeping the possibility of said death to myself. He had every right to be pissed with me, and I knew that it may be at least a couple of days more before he is done sulking at me as a petty form of punishment. When all was well and no imminent threats were about Harry hook could be an exceptional sulker.

It was a rough first night but thankfully it came to an end- and we had to make our way inland and start dealing with our first problem if we are to make our way back to Auradon undetected.

We didn't exactly look like the locals- at least in the clothing department. That part was going to be tricky.

* * *

It is coming into high noon when we finally stop for a break.

"We could just attack someone on the road" says Gill as after a hearty gulp of our shared water container, passing it on to me. water is easy enough to find with a tracker like Gill on our side, but food might end up being a problem.

Uma just shakes her head firmly "no, we don't want anyone remembering our faces and reporting us"

"Ok, so how about drying lines?" I offer.

"Could work, yeah, but we still might get spotted" she ponders "besides, good luck finding a drying lines with stuff to fit Gill"

"oh" I say. I didn't think about that, and she is right, Gill, and Harry for that matter, are large and tall men, and the odds of us finding stuff that would fit them on a random drying line are unlikely.

"We can't just waltz into a village like that, we are armed to the teeth, we don't exactly blend in" says Harry in exasperation.

None of us argue with him. We look exactly like what we are- pirates, thieves, and trouble. We are dressed in the way we learned to dress on the isle- leathers that would keep a shank away from the flesh , heavy boots that would never tare or ware, belts to hold daggers and swords, colors wild and angry to let anyone know who you run with and what pit of hell you crawled out of. Uma looks like she was dragged on the bottom of the ocean, Gill like he is ready for hunting not just animals, Harry like he is ready to add more blood to the red of his coat. And me? For as long as I remember I decorated my dark clothes with the skull that symbolized my father's domain. I wore a dagger on each hip and heavy boots with two more shanks hidden inside them. I wore his colors and symbols and even dyed my bright hair partially blue to look more like him- an underworld goddess in the making.

We look every bit like these people's worst nightmares. Or at least a younger version of them.

But we don't have to be. It's not a fully formed idea. It's barely the idea of an idea, but at the moment it's the best thing I can offer us.

"Uma" I say in a hushed tone, afraid that speaking to loudly would cause this fragile notion to pop and be gone.

"what it is?" she hums, still caught up in her own thoughts.

"Remember you told me that your mom changed the way she looked to bewitch Prince Eric back in the day?"

"yeah, it didn't work, our dear ol' bitch of a cousin Ariel had to go and-" her words die on her lips as she looks at me and I know that she finally put two and two together. She smiles wickedly

"Oh"

"oh? What oh, what is it?" asks Gill

"I might be able to, but only for myself" she ponders. I can feel magic tingling around her like static as she tries to weigh out her option with disguising herself with it " I never actually tried it"

"theoretically though?" I push

"Yeah, I guess, it will take some experimenting without my mother's lab" she ponders.

Harry pulls his shoulder "now is as good a time as any"

"Time for what?! Guys?!" Gill is frantic now, trying as hard as he can to catch up again on the flow of conversation. But we are all too caught up on our own planning to slow down for him. We would have to catch him up in a little while.

" I suppose" Uma muses, her eyes are searching her surroundings "some of the lab was just stuff the dragged from the surface anyway… tree bark, butterflies, that sort of stuff. Eye of newt and blood of virgins was never really her style"

"good, because good luck finding a virgin on the isle" Harry chuckles and I smile despite myself at his dry humor.

"that still doesn't solve the problem of us though" I mumble "we can't change our form, and just look at us"

We all grow quite for a moment, Uma and me trying to find a way around this problem while Harry catches up Gill is hurried whispers. After an agonizing silence, Uma finally opens her mouth, closes it, and opens it again. This should probably be a sign of troubling thoughts but I ask anyway; "what is it?"

"Well. I have an idea, but you are not going to like it"

* * *

 **Harry's PoV**

We didn't like Uma's idea. Not one bit. But since another half hour of arguing got us a big pile of nothing- we had to go with her plan. Flaws and all.

The first half of the plan was amusing enough, watching Uma try to master a new form of magic to alter her appearance with whatever ingredients she can muster from her surroundings. She kept insisting that she would need her mother's lab for that, and Semele kept insisting that she is better than her mother ever was and should probably stop complaining and get on with it.

After two hours of bickering, arguing, and experimenting, she finally did it.

Using the rich mud of the Auradonians soil- brimming with magic and life, and varying additions to the charm she actually managed to make herself appear as someone else.

And so, a caramel skinned girl with beady brown eyes and soft curly hair stood before us, dressed as boring as can be, ready to leave to forest and exact part two of her plan.

That part of said plan which involved us hiding our equipment, and stripping down to our underwear.

"ok, remember, you leave the talking to me" said the girl who was actually Uma before leaving us where the edge of the forest meets the outskirts of a small village.

"aye aye" Says Gill, cradled on himself to keep as safe as possible from the cold.

"Good. I won't be long" says Uma with a wicked smile that seems odd and misplaced on the soft face she wears. She leaves, running off into the village in what looks like a mix of panic and hurry. Ever the actress our captain. I grin to myself with the thought of the unlucky bastard who would end up falling for that.

Soon she is gone from our view, and so we wait. We are the hapless victims of a bandit attack, who took everything from us, even the clothes on our back, in the hope that the shame would prevent us from looking for help. We all know this is the way a real bandit would think becuase we've done it to others often enough on the isle. Stealing a person's cloths is a sure way to prevent them from coming after you, fighting back, or even screaming for help. One of the oldest tricks on the book it's both practical- and never stops being funny when played well upon one's enemies. Only a few weeks ago my lads took Lucas Rathcliff's trousers as part of the "stop messing with our crew" scare we pulled on him, more out of the need to humiliate the guy than anything else. Our story now was solid and foolproof, a lie well written and agreed upon by all of us. Uma would drag some poor sod to help us and put some clothes on our back before we leave and dig our weapons and gear back up, safe and all but invisible to carry on our way to wreak havoc.

It was a good plan.

But as I sit here is the tall bushes, cold earth under my arse and early evening wind chilling my back - I can't help but curse both Uma and Sem for coming up with the idea. After all- It's hard to be angry at a girl when you see her beautiful, naked, body shivering in the cold before you. Don't get me wrong, I am still pissed off at her, and the need to keep the mission in mind had been all that kept me from having a proper go at her for the past few days. I am to angry to let it go, so much so that I have to stop myself time and again from scooting over and wrapping my arms around her to provide her some warmth. I want to move over there, warm her up, bury my face in the crook of her neck, and inhale the scent of her until I feel like I can go high on it. Have her whisper my name as she tries to keep quiet and not show just how much she enjoys herself, that soft little whimper she makes when I get that precious spot under her ear and-

Damn it.

Damn it. Damn it. Damn her. Damn this situation and damn the way her milky skin teases. That would sure send the wrong message, especially after I managed to stay angry at her for once and keep my hands to myself over the quite sail back here. Still not sure if hands to myself means I didn't ravage her until she shook and screamed my name, or pummel her to the deck for being such an insufferable, self centered, little-

I grit my teeth and listen to the sounds of the woods around us, willing myself not to shiver. Willing my beating heart to calm down. Willing my mind to think of something other than the cold or Semele because a hard on would definitely be an issue with the current state of the plan. Would Uma hurry the hell up already?!

"I have a bad feeling about this?" I grunt.

Sem scoffs in frustration and turns her golden eyes to meet mine "really? Waiting unarmed and undressed for a potential attack is exactly how I would spend an otherwise lazy Tuesday"

Her eyes. Keep looking at her eyes, this is nothing you've never seen before Harry.  
"I'm being serious" I say "How do we know they will buy it, this is Auradon"

"Exactly, gullible" Gill chides in.

"They don't have bandits" I retort, frustrated that I even have to explain something so obvious.

Sem seems unconvinced, her eyebrows rise in surprise as the seems to consider the thought for a moment before answering.

"How do you know that?"

"it's Auradon" I grunt again in a way of answer.

"yeah, so?" she asks "they have crime. Just because all the big villains are on the isle does not mean there is no villainy out here. I don't think it's hereditary"

"Hereditary?" Gill asks and I can't help but scoff.

"Just because your parents weren't evil doesn't mean you won't be. Or vice versa." Sem explains. She wraps her arms around herself and curls in so small I could probably pick her up and fit her in a beer barrel. She told me something along those lines before.  
'we are not evil, it's just the part they want us to play so that they can play the heroes'. Back than she was curled up against me, unshed tears chocking her voice as she traced the scars across my chest like she used to. She put herself together in a storm of frustration and grief and asked me to sit by her and wait as she did. By all the gods I want to believe her, I want to be there for her as she assembles herself together this time. I am just not sure how many more stabs I can take from this woman- literal or not.

"I see this when I look at you" she hums softly, I look to her in surprise but I see that she is talking to Gill.

"Get what?" he asks

"That we are not our parents. Look, I like your dad… sort of, and sure you can be violent when you need to be, but you follow Uma, a woman- would your dad do that? Ever?"

Gill pulls his shoulder at that "guess not" he mumbles "not without making it difficult"

"And Uma is an incredible leader, an amazing friend" says Semele as she shift her gaze to look at me "Harry, when you jumped after your hook she stopped chasing the VK's to help you. My aunt Ursula would never do that. Not for anyone"

She is right. Uma could have caught Evie and sent her to sleep with the fishes that day on the boat. she could have used Mal's love for her friend to make her trade anything for her. But she didn't. I was a higher priority than Auradon. Than Revenge.

"and me?" I mumble "what have you got for me Semele?" it's an invitation, a plea- call me back to you. Hold out your hand to me. Don't make me reach out to you again. Don't make me be the one to beg for this cold between us to end. I am looking for a way back to your side and I need you to-

"I know your old man Harry. He is incredible and strong, but so are you. The things you've done for our crew… for me-" I think she is about to say something else, something true and intimate that she would no doubt regret afterwards so she stops herself. Instead she says;

"I think you will make a better Captain than he ever did one day"

The genuine look on her face, vulnerable and clear and about to say something that would save us both, that look is replaced with a bright smile which reminds of the fury from the underworld. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, though it might be the cold of sitting mostly naked in a fucking forest on an autumn evening.

"Sem-" I say, not even sure what I'm about to say, because at the moment the girl who is actually Uma returns with a couple of villagers to find us.

* * *

It's a small cottage on the outskirts on a small town. If I'm honest, I didn't even know that something this small could even be called a town at all. The isle was a bustling city built atop of itself, overcrowded, over populated, where every last habitable nook was utilized. But this?

One road runs through the town, only one- and it connect sit to the train station on the other side of the hill. Several farms in the general outskirt of it make the bulk of the small population, with as much as an hour's drive between one another at times. One road, two shops, one church. I am almost tempted to ask how many pubs but hold my tongue.

Uma comes back with a man in his late fifties, olive skinned and warm eyes; his face is lined with early wrinkles of age and experience. He wears jeans and heavy duty boots, and I suspect that his shirt's seen better days. He has an easy sort of muscularity about his that is not the result of working out in an attempt to achieve it but rather- a healthy diet and plenty of physical work. My first guess is that the man works in an outside work of some sort and I am glad to see I am not wrong when we make it to his small farm house.

He says he name is Jack, and he insists we wrap ourselves with the load of blankets he brought with him and climb to the back of his truck. We do as he says, and we ride in silence, nothing but the wind and the cranky roaring of the engine as the old truck carries us past fields, farm roads, and the occasional shed.

"thank you so much for helping us" I say when the silence become unbearable.

"please, it's not a bother. We heard of bandits doing things like that further up north, we didn't dream they would dare cross the border" he shouts back, barely audible over the grumbling of the truck and the unpaved road underneath it.

"we just got very unlucky" I hear Uma say and for the rest of the way she spins him a fantastical tale about our supposed assault by a group of armed men.

Later in the house he fishes around for clothes for the boys among his own, and offers me a simple pair of jeans and Flanner shirt which he says belonged to his daughter.

"where is she now?" I ask as I put on the pair of worn out boots he found for me in his attic. Something about the way he talks about her suggests that she is alive and well.

"oh, we got very lucky, and Betty is a clever one, managed to sed her to Auradon prep we did" he says and the pride radiation off him is almost bright enough to dazzle me blind. I smile at that, as he carries on and tells me about the bright eyed girl who used to own these boots and got herself a tuition to study in the best school in the land. The little girl with the bright eyes who deserved it more than anyone else. Who would make good with it she would. Wish you could have met her but, well, she is off living her dreams what can you do?

Finally he memges to find a pair of work trousers that seems to be long enough for Gill's size.

" try them on" he says as he hands them over to Gill "I hope these are not two short my lad"

Gill wears his clothes and with that the transformation is complete- all three of us are dressed in worn our, old farm clothes. Just like that- we have become invisible. I catch a knowing smile from the girl who is secretly Uma and return a subtle nod. We've done it.

"My you are a big one" Jack exclaims suddenly "how in the world did they get you?"

Uma hurries to speak before Gill has a chance to blow our cover with a bad lie, her tone soft but she speaks quickly enough for Gill to understand that we are not out of the woods just yet.

"my brother is a softy" she says "Don't let his size fool you"

We all chuckle at that, and after a moment's hesitation Jack joins us, seemingly satisfied with Uma's response. There is a tension in the room, a taut wire of a silence which hangs around for a moment too long. I beg to all the gods who may listen that Jack will take it as a normal sort of awkwardness around a stranger.

I look at the room around me and the only word that comes to mind is- warm. This place has seen many years of family dinners, birthdays and holidays. There is a homely sort of ware and tare to the large sofa by the window- caused by many years of sitting and sleeping on it, tiny stains that would not be removed and should not be removed. A couple of large windows bring the cold air and fading light autumn afternoon into the room and are lined with pots of herbs and flowers- some flourish, some fight to survive against casual neglect. There are chips in the doorframes- little marking to indicate the growth of a child. There is a bowl on the small coffee table which should probably hold fruit but at the moment holds sweet potatoes instead- pink and lush against to warm brown of the ceramic- probably because there was nowhere else to put them or simply because someone thought they looked rather charming there. All of these things create a picture which is so normal and yet- unbearable alien to us. Every little detail I find is another proof of how, even here, in the poor outskirts of Auradon this man could allow his family luxuries that we have never known. Some of us wanted revenge and crowns, but as I look at this room my heart aches with the realization that there are things greater than a kingdom. Things that I have no idea how to translate to the harsh terms we grew up in. this room is a masterpiece written in a language that we simply do not speak. A part of me wants to stay here forever while another fights to run away as fast and as far as I can.

I think Uma must sense my agitation, because suddenly I feel her fingers lace through mine, the touch of her familiar even through a foreign skin she wears.

"it's all gonna be alright" she whispers softly, ever the schemer, she manages to support me and get Jack to pity us all at one go. I clutch her hand in mine. A small promise that I will hold it together for the mission.

"so where did you kids come from?" Jack asks suddenly. he sits on the sofa, a warm smile of his face as he looks at Uma and me.

"over the boarded" I choke out the rehearsed lie "We are trying to get to the capital"

"for the ceremony?" he asks, a warm smile playing on his lips. There is a right answer and a wrong answer to this innocent question. Problem is I have no idea which is which.

"y, yes" Harry blurts out, flashing along his most charing smile which, in the past, has worked magic on ladies, parents, and angry bouncers. It seems to have been the right answer because Jack grins knowingly at him.

"she is a lovely one isn't she" he remarks and for a moment I feel completely lost but then- "I wasn't sure about her at the beginning, she is from that island like the rest of them criminals after all, but she is a good influence on the kind I suppose" he rises from his seat on the sofa and make his way across the room, walking leisurely into a homey kitchen in the other side.

She. She is from the isle. A good influence. All of a sudden I don't need to ask because I know exactly who he is talking about. A quick glance at the others tells me that they caught on as well.

"Are you talking about Mal?" Gill asks.

Jack is half way rummaging through the pantry from something and doesn't even look back at us as he says; "yeah, the fiancé'"

"fiancé?!" I blurt out, probably louder and more outraged than I should have but by all the gods I can't hold back my surprise.

In a relationship with the king I knew… but fiancé'?! This is huge. This means that Auradon will have a faerie half breed, a VK faeire half breed for a queen.

There are simply too many consequences to consider and I realize that this should not have been this much of a surprise when jack pokes his head back into the living room, and inquisitive look on his face.

"are you guys sure you are coming for the engagement ceremony?" he asks. My heart is hammering is my chest and I can feel my mouth running dry as I try to think of something, anything, I could say that would get us out of this corner. Anything to keep him from suspecting because plan B involved getting this kind man's blood on my hands. And probably on the rest of the room as well.

"yeah, of course" Uma says brightly "we just didn't know it was official yet, that's all".

If there are any gods on my side anymore let them bless this girl. Bless her and her quick thinking an her silver tongue.

"not exactly" he chuckles "My wife just traveled there yesterday to be with Betty for the festival. And to sell some merchandise, you know how it is. There should be a peak in celebration at the actual ceremony next week". Jack seems bashful and proud at the same time as he talk about the women in his life. It's a lovely sight but my mind is off racing somewhere else entirely. Next week there will be a peak in celebration. A ceremony. Mal the fiancé'.

"what do they sell?" I hear Uma ask and my attention is snapped back to her.

she is perched calmly on the edge of the worn sofa, making herself comfortable but not too familiar to be imposing on our host. There is genuine curiosity in her voice and all of a sudden I understand what she is doing. She is distracting him back to the topic which makes him talkative and easy. Distracting him away from talk of Mal and the isle of the lost. Away from us.

It's things like that that make her better suited for scheming and plotting than any of us. She may not have the brute strength of the boys, or my stealth and magical ability- but she has an ease and forward thinking which make her our undisputable leader. I follow her lead and ,trying to adopt and easy and calm posture, I listen to Jack beaming as he talks about his family.

"Oh my wife make beautiful ceramics" he says "the ones you'll be eating from are hers, all hers"

"Eating?" Gill asks and I swear that it seems like some of the color just returned to his cheeks.

"You don't think I will send you on your way like that do you?" Jack laughs " You can sleep in the shed, not enough room in the house, but I can at least feed you lot before you run off to catch the train in the morning."

"you are too kind" says Uma quickly, genuine surprise making her mask's eyes as wide as saucers.

"Nonsense. I don't have much but what I do I am happy to share- If you help you boys don't mind putting them arms to good use and helping me out to wrap up in the field- I might be able to offer you some money for tickets"

Harry and Gill look to Uma and receive an almost invisible nod, to small a gesture for Jack to notice but unmistakable for us.

"we would be happy to" says Harry with a bright smile.

"so it's settled" Jack says with a firm clap of his hands. He reaches over and gives harry's shoulder a friendly clasp

" I believe we should offer kindness when we can. Otherwise how are we any different than them villans on the isle" he adds. Harry's eye faulter just for a moment, a dark shadow passing within them and pushed back before it can turn into the scowl I know it wants to become.

"isn't Mal one of them?" I ask, eyes narrowing in the slightest.

Jack laughs, a bright bark of a laugh that seems to break out of him "I guess she was wasn't she?" he says "which is why I wasn't sure about her but my daughter said, Betty, she told me- she can be saved"

"saved from what?" I press. I know I shouldn't I should just let it go but I feel like something inside my is tugging towards jack. Some sense of pride of righteousness that simply won't let me leave the matter alone.

"from whatever poison they live in over there" he says. his expression darkens and for one horrifying moment I think I've pressed the subject too far. For a moment I think he must be on to us and that I would have no choice but to blast our way out of this with magic and brute force. Except then I realize that this is not anger or disgust in his eyes. It's something sad and pained. Almost like pity

"Shame really" he says finally "but they can't all be trusted same as her can they? Most of them are… how should I put it?"

"rotten to the core?" Uma suggests and I can almost see Gill wincing at the familiar term- normally worn with pride, now used to describe something wrong and sickly.

"that's right" Jack agrees. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head at that. Shakes away the subject before turning back to the boys and saying

"So, how about we go and I show you what needs to be done before we can call it a night" he asks brightly

"Deal" say Harry and Gill in unison.

* * *

If you wanna create chaos- kill a king. The power vacuum will create instability and before they have time to crown a new one you have caused havoc and ruin all around. If you wanna cause chaos you don't even need to kill a king- just make a big enough show of attempting to.

Uma doesn't want to cause chaos. She wants to bring about a revolution. In order to do that she would need to kill the king, the king and queen regents, and all the other families in line to the throne. Up until now, however, chaos was the best we could hope for. With no real way to get to very royal family in Auradon, and no way to storm each and every castle- the best we could do is kill the reigning monarch and hope for the best.

Mal's engagement ceremony changes the game plan.

We don't need to check to know that anyone who is anyone will be there, and that despite the place being armed to the teeth and guarded- we will never have a better opportunity to strike.

So as the boys are out on the fields with jack we work through a new plan- one that will take us all the way to the heart of the enemy, and hopefully get us all the way to stabbing said heart until it stops beating.

We say nothing of it to the boys as they return, only tell them to be ready to leave at dawn, to catch the train to Auradon in time for the ceremony. We talk no further on the plan as we eat and move to the barn to sleep the hours until first light.

I can't remember when did I fall asleep, only that I have never been so exhausted and comfortable in my life. as I lie on the hay in Jack's farm barn sleep takes me away before I have time to look for a comfortable position to rest.

I am shaken awake by Harry who whispers curtly that I should get the hell up and get ready to move.

It's still the middle on the night and I doubt I slept more than a few hours.I should have knows that we wouldn't actually stay until sunrise to say goodbye to our host- not with all of our things and wepons still in the forest and awaiting collection. I should have seen in coming if I'm being honest. Not rest for the wicked after all.

"We better see what we can take before we leave" Uma whispers at me and I know that this would be my job.

My old one. Sneeking in and stealing from the kitchen should be easy enough, even looking through the other rooms for any money or goods would be child's play. I feel a pang of guilt at the thought of taking from the kind man after everything he has done for us but I force my conscience to keep quite as I make my way into the house.

"No" I feel ar arm grab at mine as I am about to step out of the barn. A firm grasp, not painful but certainly not asking politly either. I turn around and to my shock Gill looks back at me with an uncharacteristic serious look in his eyes. He stopped me. I think I can probably count on my fingers the amount of times Gill actually stodd up to any of us. It's uncharted territory that makes me uneasy.

"Gill what?" I say as I try to shake away from his hold, but his grip is like iron on my arm

"We are not taking anything from him" he says, not softening his grip but not talking to me either. He is looking straight at Uma now.

There are moments when it's a good idea to challenge one's captain. Moments when all is calm and there are no threats and actually, it might be a good way to keep your captain on her toes and make sure she knows she is only a captain because her grew made her so. I am not sure this is one of these moments. Gill seems to think otherwise though, and I doubt he is going to just let me go and follow my orders.

"Gill , we don't know how long will it take us to get to Auradon" I try to reason with hi but he simply shakes is head violently. He is having none of that. Whatever is left on my conscience screams at me that he is right, but the rest of me- the survivor, the villain kid- knows better.

"Fine, so we make do" He retorts at me than turns back to Uma "I can hunt. Sem and do some other weird shit. We'll be fine."

"Gill" Uma edges closer to us and I notice, to my surprise, she doesn't seem angry. This is not Gill being a lovable idiot. She is taking this small mutiny with deadly seriousness. She can see what I can- we will not make our way through him on this one. We will get out him this barn with him on our side or we wouldn't at all because when it comes down to it- Gill is as much a general of her crew as Harry and me. he is just as fierce a warrior, and just as hard to move when he sets his heart to something. I can see his Jaw clenches as he sees Harry edging closer as well, a tension building in him and I can feel it in the place where he my arm is still in his tight grasp.

"I am not gonna take anything from him" he said and this time I stop my breath with with. His voice is trembling and I am not sure he notices that he shouldn't speak so loudly but he simply goes on

"this man took us in. He gave us food. He gave us clothes. He let us stay. I'm not taking anything from him" he snarls "hurting those who hurt us- yeah, I'm all for that. But I will not hurt this man. This is wrong"

"We are wrong. We are from the isle" Harry bites at him

"Yeah. Whateve" Gill scoffs, turning to his oldest friend, his first mate "I'm not gonna hurt him. I won't let you. and if you wanna do that anyway, your'e gonna have to go through me" his lets go his grip on my arm but I can hardly move as he squares up to stand in front of Harry, the two of them tall enough to see eye to eye in a stance of intimidation. I know what happens when Isle boys sqare off like this and I dread to think of the conciquenses of the two of thm starting a fight right now

"I don't know what are my odd if she starts throwing fire around but in a fare fight I think I can probably take you" he threatens, his voice low and menacing.

"Gill-" I try to say but Uma stopps me before I have the chance to say anything else.

"Gill is right" she says "We are not taking anything. We take what we were given. Nothing else."

And that is that.

With our captains final word on the metter- we leave with what we were given- and not a single thing more.

As we make our way back to the forest and our earthed belongings I can't help but thinks that maybe I was more right than I though in that forest yesterday.

Maybe we are not good or bad but rather- the grey zone incarnate.

Maybe we can leave a better world than the mess left to us by our parents after all.


	15. Chapter 15- Gifts

**A\N: sometimes all it takes is a cool GIF and uddenly I HAVE TO FINISH THIS (gif in question was with the words of dead girl walking re from heathers)**

 **song of the chapter: From Shadows (feat. Casey Lee Williams) by Jeff Williams**

 **Chapter 15: Gifts**

I assume in the other carriages on this train the night's chill doesn't bite quite so hard. But this carriage was not made for people, and trunks and luggage shouldn't feel the cold.

We are huddled together in the luggage compartment of the train, tucked between boxes and trunks and as quiet as mice.

It's been two days since we left Jack's farm and the tension grows with every mile that draws us closer to our target. We are quiet for most hours of the day, talking only in hushed tones when it's time to stowaway from one train to the other or fine a new place to hide. It wasn't a rough journey- easy enough to lay low as stowaways, but the hunger was starting to gnaw away at our nerves. Funny, I thought, how after all these years all it took was a few weeks of regular good feedings for our bodies to forget what an empty belly feels like.

We gathered leftovers from passengers when we could, stole money when we couldn't. our presence was a ghost haunting the well off travelers on the train.

I'm not sure what wakes me. could be the cold, or a sudden bump on the train track, or just the general discomfort of the position I found myself sleeping in. either way, I blink awake slowly to find a dark carriage, and Uma and Gill sleeping soundly beside me.

I take a moment to let my eyes adjust to the darkness and look around in search of Harry, knowing full well that he must be around here somewhere. I find him finally perched on one of the boxes, looking out the small crack of a window at the outside. Starlight or moonlight shed bleak light that makes him seem as though he sketched in black and white. I move away from the others as quietly as I can and make my way to him. He hears me all the same and his eyes are shot to me in a way the reveals just how wrong I was to assume he was just staring calmly out the window. I should know better, honestly, that this man is rarely ever calm unless there is an ocean on all sides of him.

"You alright?" I ask softly. I find a seat beside him on one of the boxes and he shuffles slightly to give me room to look out the small window with him.

"Yeah" he says, his voice comes out raspy from misuse. I doubt he's been awake much longer than me.

I look at the world outside our small carried and see a bleak picture of fields and mountains, illuminated by the same cold light than sucks all the color from the world- leaving a peaceful yet dark image of a world painted by moonlight. It's a full moon, I notice, the kind that breeds ghost stories, monsters, and holidays alike. The night's air is crisp and chilling and I can't help but shiver violently has a gust of wind catches me unprepared. Unintentionally I find my body is moving nearer to Harry's- the nearest and dearest source of warmth that I know.

I know I shouldn't do this, I know that he is still angry with me for what I've done in the underworld and I shouldn't force him to bare my touch. An apology is already ready on my lips when he moves his arm, and lets me closer. His arms wraps around my shoulder casually, letting me sit in this oh so familiar position beside him. However, he doesn't close his palm on my arm; he isn't drawing his usual lazy circles with his thumb on my bare skin. He is not relaxed- not really.

I move away from his with a deep sigh, he turns to look at me in surprise and I wander just how aware is he of how much I got from a simple gesture. How much, despite keeping his mouth shut- his body is screaming his discomfort.

"You are still angry" I say. Not a question. I can't help but thing that the less space I give him to lie- the better.

After a moment's silence he lets out a deep sigh of his own.

"Yeah" he admits, and although it's not what I wanted to hear, it's the truthfulness of this word which makes it easy to breathe again. At least we are not lying to each other. At least he still respects me enough to not attempt to lie around it. Truth. Truth I can work with.

"What will it take for you to forgive me?" I ask, needing to know how to work from here. What can I do to get this wall of ice and silences and infinite space between us to be gone.

"I already have" he says and for a moment I just stare at him, confused, before he continues "I know why you did what you did. I get it. I forgave you for it. That doesn't mean I am not pissed that you felt like you had to do that I just" his words die on his lips but I say nothing. I hate to be prodded and poked to speak when the words refuse to come and after knowing this man for most of my life- I know he feels the same. So I wait. Anxiously I fear what he might say but I force myself to remain silent.

"I just need time" he says finally says, and the words come out on a heavy sigh on defeat.

Time. I realize I knew this all along. That he would be angry until he simply ran out of the will to be. I also realize, that while this is a thing I can give him, it's also a thing I am desperately scared of wasting.

"I don't know how much time I have" I admit. If we are dealing in truths at the moment, perhaps it is as good a time as any to let him know what has been keeping sleep from my eyes from the moment my foot stepped out of Alecto's portal.

"What do you mean?" he asks, he turns to me, his eyes narrow with suspicion. I know what he must be thinking. Something dramatic and unlikely like me having whatever it was that killed my father run within me. Me leaving them. Me going back to the isle. I know him and I know all the improbable explanation this wild mind of his must have jumped to in the moment it took me to respond.

"I will have to go back down there" I say "eventually"

Understanding dawns on him and it is a terrible sight. Eyes squint to grasp the meaning then widen is shock, searching my face for a smile or a hint that I may be joking. His lips open, once, twice, looking for a thing to say until finally his face relaxes into a defeated acknowledgment.

Just because I didn't jump this time, does not mean I will be able to avoid it forever.

"Is there anything I can do to stop you?" he asks and I know from his tone he does not expect a favorable answer.

"It's in chaos. It needs a ruler. The furies won't be there forever" I explain, but my voice comes out weak and tiny and I am hardly

convincing myself. There is still so much to lose by jumping, but there are so many souls that need the primordial clock that is the underworld to keep ticking. The furies are stewards, and the dead know it- the magic of the place will crumble eventually, even if it will take longer than my lifetime for it to do so.

I am not sure when did I finally understand it. Perhaps when I felt the full force of the underworld while standing on the edge of the vortex, perhaps as soon as I saw the place. It was holding, true, but as soon as I came face to face with the potential majesty of it- as soon as I had the sheer power of it thrown in my face- only then did I realize how much of it was missing. I have never seen the place in its full glory, there was no way you know until it was too late, until I have already lost all the will to do it at all.

Truth is I have been thinking of it for days, the gaping hole in the structure of the underworld, the void in its magic that the furies could not hope to fill. I have been trying, cowardly, to think of alternatives that will not involve me taking the jump eventually. And the only other solution was to raise a child to bare this burden instead- and this, I knew, is one sacrifice I will never make- not even to save my family. It may be years, but I knew at the core of my being that all my roads will lead to the underworld.

"I want to go sailing with you before that" Harry says suddenly, and there is a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. He isn't looking at me, and I know that his imagination must be working itself into overdrive picturing all he would do on that sail

"I would love that" I say as I finally allow myself to lean back into his side. Cherishing the warmth of him and the newfound ease in which he lets me do that.

"There are so many things I wanted to do once we got out" he admits finally.

"So do them" I say with a nudge of my elbow. Soon. Soon it will all be over and harry will be able to go on all the adventures he dreamed of as a child.

"some are things I wanted you and I to do together" he says

"We will have time" I assure him, ever if I can't promise him how much time- some time I surely can.

" Things like what?" I ask.

"Sailing"

"You said that already" I argue but he simply shrugs.

"swimming in a blue lagoon, just me and you" he purrs and I don't need any further clarifications to know exactly what he imagines we would wear on this particular adventure. I feel the heat rise to my cheeks at the mere thought of it "Seeing the pixie lights in neverland" he adds, strangely sincere.

"Don't you need a flying ship for that?" I ask, trying to imagine how in the world we will get to a magical realm that may or may not exist within the stars. Somehow that seems more unlikely and outlandish that traveling to the underworld.

"I'll have a goddess on my side" he chuckles "I'll be fine"

As I rest my head on his shoulder I imagine all of it. All the places our parents told us about which we never got to see. I imagine the vibrant markets of Agrabah, the shimmering towers of Atlantica, a winter solstice in the enchanted forest. There is so much to see and so much to do, and I want to share as much of it as I can with this man. I want to see it all and I wanna see the look on his face when he sees those marvels with me. we will have time. At list for a little while, to experience these miracles with our own eyes.

For some reason the sheer excitement of it brings a giddy sort of laugh out of me. a bubbling sound which I immediately quiet with a palm to my own mouth. Half out of embarrassment and half because we really do need to keep the fuck down.

Harry turns to look at me with an incredulous lift of his eyebrow. He must think I am laughing at him.

"What?" he asks

"You lost your touch on how to keep a good sulk" I explain, smile still firm on my lips. His expression calms at that, and he leans back into the wall of the carriage. He is quite for a moment, probably thinking of something teasing or clever to say.

"You are not making this to easy" he rasps quietly, and again, the sincerity he allows himself with me tonight is an unexpected gift. A precious thing I feel the need to cherish and hold.

"Was never planning to make it easy" I say softly.

"I'm still mad at you" he clarifies" But that don't mean I don't love you"

At first I am not sure I heard him right. I am not sure why but, to me, hearing him say these words now- with no alcohol talking of afterglow of sex, without anything or anyone making him say this. The simplicity of it- the way he says it as thought he says my eyes are golden, or the sky is blue. No hesitation. No swearing or big gestures. A simple fact which lingers between us even as his words fade into the night. He loves me.

"That's good to know" I choke out. Not the response he was hoping for and I know that. But for some reason, the words he wants me to say remain stuck in my throat. Why can't I say it now? I said it easily enough in the underworld, naked and bare and with no defenses whatsoever. Then why now-

"Even when you make me wanna beat the shit out of you" he teases and I let out a breathy laugh in relief as the tone of conversation drives back to our comfort zone- teases and jokes.

"Likewise" I say, hoping against all home he understands "I never did like softies"

* * *

"so this is it"

The "it" Uma has been referring to is a storage unite the size of my old house, filled to the brim with boxes of food, wine, and other necessities of a feast. Tomorrow trucks will come here and load up crate after crate to be carried deep into the kitchens of the main castle as the city. And we have every intention of being on that journey.

Getting here unnoticed was easy enough under the cover of night, and getting inside was practically child's play- harry was done with the lock faster that I was able to conjure a ball of fire to smash through the thing. As the lock gives a faint click of surrender Harry tosses it to me like a trophy with a wicked smirk on his lips

"snooze you lose love" he says

I smiles as I toss the lock quietly behind me, making a face back at him  
"Showoff"

"if you guys are done flirting" says Uma as she pushes the door past us and enters the hangar. The door makes no sound as is swings open to reveal the space inside, I light a small orb of fire in my pal as we walk inside.

It looks pretty much the way I expected it to, boxes atop of boxes atop of crates and chests. The place smells of wood, but faintly I can pick up the smell of fresh fruit and vegetables, wheat, rice, herbs. Inside this storage unit there is an amount of food that could feed the isle for years.

"how much do these people eat?" Gill asks in astonishment as we make our way, shutting the door behind us as we do.

"as much as they want" I mutter. All that for one feast. One feast for one man and woman getting married and no one will be batting and eye. And why should they? On this side of the magical barrier everyone is well fed and healthy, and they will say well fed and healthy when winter rolls around in a month or so.

Well not for long.

We all knew the plan from here, having heard the story on the isle often enough, some of our crew were children of the fourty thieves after all, and realized in the tale of how their fathers crashed Aladdin and Jasmine's first attempt at a royal wedding. We know the next step, executing it , however, takes us a bit of looking around. It takes us a few minutes but eventually we empty the better half of two large crates, making room for two bodies in each of them.

"quickly" Uma urges us "it's going to be daylight soon"

We scuttle off to take position when uma stops us again "Harry, I need you with me" she says.

I look to her in confusion. I am not sure why but I was sure that she and I will be in a box together, the boys being more adapted than anything to fighting side by side, and me and her… well… we are family.

"Uma?" Harry asks, half way to Gill's box and apparently just as confused as I am.

"one magic user, one fighter per box" she orders.

I can see the sense in it, and yet I can't understand why she needs Harry in her unit.

"So I go with Gill?" I ask, attempting to get a clearer explanation from her about this new order. If we need one magic user and one fighter per unit I will not deny that having harry with me would be huge help.

"if it's all the same to you"

Strange. This is not an order. It's a request. I look at my cousin and see for a flicker of a second a rare vulnerability in her eyes. Of course. She and Harry are a lethal team, but more than that- he is her first mate. She and I may be family but her and Harry have been by each other's side even longer than that. I can understand why, as we are to walk into the lions' den- she wants her closest friend at her side.

"I'll see you on the other side eh?" I say to Harry. I can see it in his eyes- he is torn between going with his captain, his closest friend, the girl who is more of a sister to him than his real ones- and me. It's touching, really, but I can't have him struggle with that just now. Not when we are so damn close.

He looks at me with wide eyed surprise and gods damn it it's hard to let him go right now. Everything feels urgent and yet, almost unreal.

In a moment of abundant bravery- I reach my hand to the nape of his neck and pull him to me in a hasty kiss. he leans in willingly, casually, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, as if we have never fought or sulked or hurt each other in our lives. It's an everyday sort of kiss. Hasty, and sweet and so important in it's meaninglessness. As his lips brush mine I can feel a smile tugging at them. A feline sort of grin, promising mischief and trouble. My favorite smile.

"don't make me wait" I mummer against his lips.

* * *

Trust is a fickle thing. It's hard to give, but from the moment you gave it- it's like a raft for a drowning person.

I decided to trust Gill long ago. I decided to love him like the rest of my family and put my life in his hands if needs be.

As we are submerged in darkness together I can't help but think how lucky I feel to have someone I can trust like that in the box with me. Sure, he may not be the sharpest dagger in the armory, and yet- I know I am safe so long as me and him are a team.

I am not sure how long we spend in this box, Gill and I tucked together in complete darkness and a faint smell of the few apples we left in the crate. Me with my senses finly tuned to pick up the outside, him with his hand clutching on my my daggers so tightly- I can almost hear the worn out leather strap streaching under his grip. His knuckles must be white as chalk by now, and I can smell the

scent of his sweat mixing with that of the apples and the wood.

We are lifted of, put on a truck, and carried away.

We don't say a thing through the ride, we do not touch ech other for comfort for fear of making a sound. There is nothing to do but wait and keep playing the next steps of the plan through my mind. Nothing to do buy try my best to keep breathing.

It might have been hours, there is really no telling in the darkness.

As the crate is finally lowered down and set aside it is so warm in our confined space I am worried that Gill may have passed out. I know that I am close enough to pass out. The air is stuffy and is smells and the wood is hard against my back. Every single muscle in my body feels constricted and cold.

I wait the time it takes my to low out a lungfull of air before casting my magic out of my to check the room we are in. I can't tell how big it is, I can't tell where it is or what is in it. I can, however, tell that we are the only two living things in it, and that is good enough for me.

With a blast of my power, of fire and wind and frustration, I bow off the cover of the box, and the air that rushes in feels like it's bringing me back to life.

For the first time since his closed the lid on us I see Gill, and he looks about as bad as I expected him to- sickly green and curled on himself to the pint he looks like a man half his size.

"you need a moment?" I whisper, but his simply shakes his head and takes a long deep breath. As the color returns to his face I consider making a joke about about the fact that this, in fact, had been a moment, but that seems cruel and uncalled for.

I take the time instead to take the room around me- storage room no doubt- shelves and boxes line the walls and it's unnaturally cold in here.

"We are in a fridge" I mutter as I look around me. One ventilation shaft- blocked, one door. Behind it- now one I can sense.

"where to?" he asks as he gets out of the box at last.

I hand him my other dagger, sure that the small weapon would be more useful in his hands than in mine, besides, I can't wait to see Mal's face as I send a ball of flame hurtling towards it.

I close my eyes and try to concentrate. I reach out in the way that used to be so damn difficult but is now as easy as breathing. I don't need to think which threads am I looking for, I don't need to tug or all or beg. It's all right there formy inner eye to see. Every thread of person and thing in this palace, and honestly- it the sheer amount of them should be alarming to me. except then I feel the thing I am looking for.

It feels like the sun among a sky of pale stars. So bright and powerful and it's almost blinding to look at- an object of sheer power, ancient and pristine and encased in glass. The fairy godmother's wand. A sidhe's magical object.

"through this door and then right" I say, and Gill quickly follows. He opens the door and is dashing on in seconds, clearly intending on making a path through guards and sentries if he needs to.

I can't help but grinning as I run after him, magic singing in my bones with every free step I take.

It's not just the freedom of being outside the damn box, I realize. It's the fact that we are so close that I can almost taste it. We are in the stronghold of the enemy, we know where we are going, and we are going to win. It feels as if there is a living flame in my belly and fire dancing at my fingertips. My body feels hot at ready to burst into flame.

I direct us through stairways and corridors, watching out for guards, always led on by the shining star that is the fairy magic ahead. Exhilaration feels like too small a word for this feeling. It's as good as that ride across the water that first night, it's good as anything I have ever felt.

I can feel the auradonian guards easily and avoid them, I know where they are and where they are going and there is nothing which they can do which can surprise me.

Except, when we bound the next corner, these are not Auradonian guards who wait for us.

I don't recognize the uniform, even though something at the back of my mind screams at me that I should. All of a sudden the fire within me feels as if someone has blown it out- and Something within me is screaming at me to run away. There are four of them, and there is no point attempting to run away anymore- they saw us.

We stop in our tracks, unsure how to go about defeating four heavily armed me. and yet they don't attack us, they simply stand there, waiting. An organised unit which has us exactly where they wanted us. Gill, to my surprise, is standing rooted in his place. All his wild energy seems to vibrate off of him in waves of heat and yet- he doesn't move. He must sense, like I did, there these men are more than they seem.

the first thing I notice, through the slates in their golden plumed helmets- is how unnervingly beautiful they are. Every feature of their face is abnormally perfect and proportional, as though they were sculpted my a master artist's hand. They wear skirt. No, not skirts, pteruges, strips of hard leather from a decorated golden armor. Capes as red as blood are falling at their backs and they carry large shields and spears, golden and so bright they seem as if they shine. Except they do shine- every piece of metal on these men shines with the golden light of godly power. This is the kind of weaponry my father used to want to teach me how to muster. These are god made weapons, I realize with a shock of panic.

No wonder I couldn't sense them. I was looking for threads of the Auradonian Guard and these men are most certainly NOT from Auraddon. The Auraddon Guard was made and trained to guard kings and royalty. Theses people where trained to guard something far more superior.

It's an Olympian guard.

They will tare Gill to shreds and he won't even notice it.

"Gill, Listen to me" I say, my voice is low voice "Run"

Me chance, my only chance, is to burn them to a crisp before the realize I have olympian magic to fight them with. And even then… no. I can't think of that right now.

"I am not leaving you" he mutters, both my daggers ready in his han and honestly, I wish I could have him around here for what would happen next. But I know it's no good.

"you have to" I say "you will only get in the way"

"I wont!" I bites back and for a split second I think he made up his mind and is about to pounce forward. I can't have that. I can't risk that. If both of us are gone then the other's will not know the carry on with the plan without me. Besides- if I do make it through I can find them easy enough.

"Run down this corridor" I say, and in my mind I search of Gill's thread among the other "and run down the stairs as far as you can- when you reach the basement take the furthest most staircase up to floors"

"Sem- wha-"

But I don't let him finish. Grabbing hold to his thread, hos body, with my magic- I push as far as I can.

The reaction is instantaneous. His legs, his body, jerks backwards and I manag to pull him three steps behind me before the

Olimpians move.

This will have to do.

They move as one unit, organized and precise as clockwork. A shield wall is pushing towards me just as I ménage to throw Gill behind me and away.

Their faces are completely blank as they draw forwards their spears an aim them towards me and there is no time to think about the implication of this as I let go as much as I dare. Fire explodes from every inch of my being as I become an inferno of violence. Still contained I feel the need to simply let go of all this power stronger than ever. It feels like holding a sun in my bare hands but I hold on- unsure, afraid of what would happen to me if I give in to this temptation. I send tongues to living flame to meet the weapons of the enemy. I trash and destroy and despite the terror of it the feeling is almost intoxicating. I feel my skin blister and tare and then reattach itself with the force of my magic- a storm of energy directed at the guards.

My only hope, as I thrash and throw my power to meet their godly weapons, is that Gill was smart enough to get away.

It's only when I manage to tare one of them in half that I realize that I was right- there was something off about their faces. I grab one of them with my bare hands, two palm pulling at him arm and as it detaches from the torso I am greeted not with blood and bone but rather with marble. His gold bracers melt in my hands at I crush the white stone between my fingers- the sound setisfying and blissfull and I can seen my grin reflected in his perfect helmet.

Not people then. Good.

By the time I am done with them I know I have overdone it. The entire hallway is smoky and charred with ash and sut, and the smell of burned metal is everywhere. I don't need to tug on any threads to know that more are coming.

I rise to my feet and steady myself to meet however many may come across the corner. I can take them. I know I can. Every muscle and fiber of my being is screaming with pain but I know that if it means freedom- I will do it. I will take on Olympus myself if I have to.

But when someone finally come behind the corner it's not another unit of Olympian guards.

Walking casually, as if she has all the time in eternity and nothing better to busy herself with- comes a single tall woman.

Her perfect skin glows a rosy pink, and the soft fabric of her purple tunic seems to hover about her and billow in a wind that is simply not there. Her hair is not blonde- it is the color of the first sunrise after winter, of daisies and dandelions and daffodils. She walks and I almost expect to see flowers bloom where her bare foot had been a second before.

I never imagined what it would feel like to have my thread tugged upon like I did to Gill but as it happens- my only thought is that Gill must have felt it worse. I imagine kittens feel the same when they are grabbed by the nape of the neck

The woman doesn't have to work hard to render me unconscious. She does it with a bored flick of her divine hair.

They only thing I can think as my mind slips away from me is that everyone was right.

I do look too much like her.

._


	16. Chapter 16- Pesephone

_**By now I guess all y'all are very well aware that the canon has sunk my OC. Can't complain though as I adore what they did with Hades in the canon and his relationship with Mal. But… I got the bug for this fandom again so I will continue this as a very self contained AU where Hades is more mythical and less blue daddy. I hope you like it and thanks to the new followers.**_

 _ **song of the chapter: dear Theodosia (Hamilton)**_

* * *

 **Chapter 16: Persephone.**

I wake to the sight of flickering fluorescent lights in a low ceiling above me. my head is pounding as I slowly blink and attempt to move. Every muscle in my body screams in pain as a shuffle to a sitting position. I feel… empty. I feel drained out and weak as I reach up to touch mo swollen face. I have been lying face down on what I assume is concrete floor and the stinging pain in my cheek tells me that there is probably a bruise about to bloom there soon.

so this is what feels like when you empty you magical reserves in one blow. I remember unleashing myself more than I have ever dared before. I remember fire and smoke and tearing the mechanical Olympian guard limb from limb with my hands and the energy flowing from me. I was a force of pure death and destruction. Now I feel like I want to hurl.

I blink around me in the darkness and spot a small toilet at the corner of the room I'm in. it's metallic and dirty and right now it looks like salvation as I almost crawl to it and stick my head it, feeling my stomach contract as I heave and vomit what little I had in my stomach. I stay there for a moment after, breathing in the stench of my own stomach acid and the toilet sanitizer and try to regain a semblemne of calm.

I close my eyes and search for the threads. First Gill, wherever he may be.

I plunge into the familiar abyss as I search for threads of life and magic. And I feel as if I am about to throw up again. I feel nothing.

This is not the nothing of Gill being dead, I know what that feels like- that feels like the absence of a stair you were expecting to step on. Like the cold I felt when I searched for the thread of my father in the underworld. This is not it. This is far worst.

I reach again with my magic, for Uma, for Harry and I feel nothing. No magic is answering my call. It feels like I'm behind the isle's magical barrier. It feels so wrong I have no idea how in the world did I spend most of my life this way.

Only a couple of weeks I have been breathing and living magic every moment of the day that I forgot the sheer wrongness of not having it around me. is this how my father felt every day on the isle? Is that how all the other felt? Robbed of so much with the press of a button.

"it's not use" I hear a voice from behind me and I finally turn to see the bars.

I am in a cell. And between the bars I see the faint shimmer I have known my entire life on the isle- the shimmer of the barrier.

And behind it, looking radiant in a purple gown that hugs her curves ad ends in details imitation wings and scales, her hair tucked in a neat bun and her makeup as perfect as I have even seen it- stand the future queen of Auradon.

"Mal" I grit between my teeth

"I wanna say… Semele?" she says, pretending like she has no idea who I am. As though I was never a threat worth remembering. And now behind a barrier once more- perhaps I'm really not.

"sorry to crash the party" the drawl, trying to settle into a comfortable position as I school my face to not wince at the pain. Not show weakness. Definitely not now.

"yeah well, I forgot to send an invite" she quips.

"you of all people should know how dangerous that can be, didn't your mother-"

"ok, enough of this," she says, her eyes flash acidic green as she cuts my words. She is powerful. Far more powerful than she was on the isle. But then I guess a healthy diet and magic rich air for three years would do that to you.

"where are the others?" she asks, and I can almost hear the rumbling of dragon's rage beneath it all.

"you are going to have to try harder than that" I say. There is no point denying it… but I will not admit anything either. If she wants something out of me she will have to get in here and try and take it.

She knows it. Which is why she blinks and lets the magic drain from her eyes as she schools her face to a bored smile.

"I'd love to," she says, "but I actually have a party today, don't know if you heard. But there is someone else who really wants to see you" her smile is that of a cat which cornered it's prey.

for a moment I am not sure who could she be talking about. Who would want to see me? here of all places. Who would?-

she walks in like the first ray of sunshine after the last night of winter. She is beautiful. She is terrifying. She looks just like me.

and I remember the bored flick of her wrist with which she rendered my unconscious. I remember her face, smiling gently at my father- the image still in the locket around my neck.

and I see that she knows who I am. Her eyes flick to the locket and then to my eyes, lips parting for a second before closing again in a tight smile.

Mal sees me freeze and grins as she turns to leave and this is all it takes to send my temper flying off the handle.

"you were supposed to save everyone" I cry after her. and to my surprise- she halts, for just a moment. "you were supposed to bring the barrier down, set us all free not make everything worse! You were one of us"

Mal turns to me then, her eyes flashing green again and her smile gone

"I found a home here Semele" she snarls at me, no longer pretending to not know who I am "and I have everything, and I am going to protect it all, from the likes of you"

I thinks would have gone on buy Persephone places a gentle hand on her shoulder. I wonder if this woman can ever make a movement that won't be gentle and graceful.

"your highness" she says warmly "I will take care of educating my daughter"

"like fuck you will" I snarl at her.

Persephone ignores me, simply keeps her eyes locked with Mal as the new queen of Auradon takes a deep breath and calm her rage. She gives me one final look of contempt as she leaves .

"you are like a parasite Mal" I shout after her, relishing my new found way to get under her skin "you finish with one turf and then you move to the next"

She doesn't get near my face this time. She doesn't move near the cell but I can see her hand is shaking has she grabs the doorknob, about the leave the prison wing.

"I could have chosen to give up everything for the isle, and for people who would tear what I have brick by brick" she says "or I could choose to be happy. Maybe if you live long enough you'll know what that's like"

I am about to shout something else after her, but before I can think of anything she slips out of the room and slams the door behind her.

Leaving me alone with my mother.

* * *

 **Harry.**

Assuming that hell is not the all pitchforks and fire pits- it's probably something like the box Uma and I shoved ourselves into. It felt like hours in total darkness, squashed against my captain in this tiny space with the scent of turnips of all things to top it all off. We were carried is different directions, up an elevator and finally set town in an industrial sized panty.  
I made quick work of the lock and we were on our way.

Now, nearly an hour later, we were at the entrance to the museum, hiding under the parking lot and I am finding a whole new type of hell- waiting for Semele in enemy territory.

"They are fine" I hear Uma whispering beside me and I chuckle. Of course they are. They are both the strongest people I know. Semele could probably level this castle on her own and she's got Gill with her to watch her back. So why do I feel nauseous with panic?!

A month ago I didn't care if she lived or died, no more than I cared for anyone else from the crew anyway. Well maybe a little more, she was always a bonnie lass after all… but this?

This is what true terror feels like. And I have never been a fan.

"We should go find them" I mutter under my breath, and before Uma answers we here staps approaching. Familiar steps. And a familiar voice hissing our names.

Gill.

"Over here!", I am a little to loud but who the fuck cares now that they are here. Gill locks eyes with me and the look in his eyes is enough to make my blood run cold. Semele is not with him.

"What happened?" Uma asks as she motions him to our hiding spot "were to followed?"

"I don't think so," says Gill, he is gasping for breath as he crouches with us.

"Where is Sem" I snarled at him before he has time to gain his bearings.

"She took out a group of those… things, they looked like people, I don't know what they were- I wanted to help but she did this thing- I couldn't control my body, she got me out of the way"

"Gods Sem, what the actual fuck"Uma sigh in exasperation beside me.

"They took her" Gill says

"The things? The people things" I try to get understand Gill's messy re-account "What are you talking about"

"No, she killed them all, if they were alive, I don't think they were. I tried to stick around and get her but then this woman came, she looked like her, like Sem, and-"

"What woman?!" Uma asks, I can see in here eyes that she is piecing together something that I don't, and I don't like it one bit.

"I think she was a goddess- she saw me but-"

"I thought you said you weren't followed!" I am just about ready to rip Gill into shreds now with my hook, just about ready to go and try to take on Auradon myself if that's what it takes to stop feeling so goddamn useless.

"Her mother" Uma mutters "that was persephone"

"The one who abandoned her?" I ask, trying to piece together what she already has. Persephone and Hades were the stuff of legends, and Semele hated her mother for as long as she knew how to hate anyone. The woman who abandoned her and her father. And I told her to take the locket so that her mother would be sure to recognize her when she sees her. If she has her now…

"We have to go" I tell them and make to move out of get Sem. to get out of here. Auradon be damned.

"Don't" I am stopped in my tracks by Uma, her grip on my shoulder like an Iron hook in of its own "this doesn't make sense"

"They have Sem Uma!"

"I know!" she bites back at me "and Persephone let Gill go!"

"All the more reason to not dally here"

"Trust me on this," she says, not, asks me. She will let me go if I demand it. But Uma, my captain, is asking me know- not commanding.

I take the pocket watch out of my jacket and give a quick glance before turning it to Uma.

"One hour, and then we go" I warn her.

"Agreed"

* * *

 **Semele**

The silence feels like a living thing between us. It's not just tense- it's loaded and guarded, like an animal that hasn't quite decided if it would like to pounce or run and hide. This silence is all baring teeth and pounding hearts. At least it is on my side of the bars- the side where there is no where else to run.

"So" I say at last, because the silence feels like it's suffocating me and my mother's baby blue eyes are just about too much to handle without a healthy helping of sass.

"You've grown" she says.

"Since I was a baby? Yeah I should fucking hope so". She narrows her eyes, her gorgeous and cold eyes as she looks me up and down. I stand up and square off to her. Let her see the woman I've become instead of the child she chose to abandon. She takes in my hair, my face, my everything- until her eyes lock on the jewel dangling from a chain around my neck.

"I see he kept the locket" she says and I swear I can see a faint hint of a smile on those perfect rosy lips.

"Stashed it under a box pull of potion and dead things" I bite back "I found it when I cleared out his room"

"And kept it"

"Though i might sell it for lunch of something" her self satisfaction is making a liar of me. But she doesn't need to know. She can't know how it took Harry helping me and holding me get me to stop crying and sobbing when i found this trinket. She doesn't need to know that the only time I took it off since then was when I was bared body and soul before him. "but then it turns out to be magic"

"You went to-" her eyes widen at that. She is putting the pieces together and I don't let them spill them out.

"The underworld? Yeah" I answer, allowing myself the pleasure of seeing my mother dumbfounded "been there. Nice place, Alecto says hi"

"She does?" she asks, a single perfect eyebrow perking in disbelief.

"No, not really" I deadpan. I could let this go on, but I need to get out of here. If she needs to torture anyting out of me she would have to bring down this berrier-which would give me a chance to attack. She caught me off guard before, and even though I am still depleted of energy I'll be damned the tartarus if I'll let her have a go at me without a fight. If I'm going down I'll be doing it kicking and screaming.  
"so are we gonna start this or…" I trail off.

"Start what?" she asks.

"I assume you volunteered here to turture the truth out of me, about the others that is"

"I did" she says, and takes a seat on the single stool before my cell, the one Mal set on when I woke up. Crossing one long leg over the other she nests her porcelain- perfect cheek in her hand and smiles devilishly "But I won't"

For a moment I just stare at her in disbelief. It's no news that Olympus view themselves as above Auradon, and why shouldn't they? God trumps hero every time after all… but this? I can't wrap my mind around whatever this is.

"What is this?" I ask "Are you expecting a mother daughter reunion, is that what's happening here?"

"I wanted to see you" she answers as if it makes all the sense in the world "when I sensed your magic I thought that your father was-"

"My father is dead!" I yell at her, tears pricking at my eyes "No thanks to you" my voice is dripping with poison as I move closer to the bars. I feel like a caged animal in here and the magical barrier feels cold and dirty and WRONG when it's so close to my skin. But hearing her speak about him makes the proximity to this abomination feel almost worth it.

"I know" her voice is barely more than a whisper now "and I am so, so, sorry" she looks at me then and I see a matching swelling of tears in her eyes. Something doesn't add up. This is not the woman my father told me about. The one who left us to die and rot.

"Are you now?" I ask.

"I…" she trails off then, eyes wondering, not looking at me, not looking at anything "things were complicated, when you were born. To complicated. We both did what we had to do to survive"

"You left us!"

"I saved you!" she snarls back at me, and in the rage in her eyes- so similar to mine- I see nothing but earnest pain. I need to know more.

"Go on" I say. I have to get out of here but if I could spare a moment and get some answers… I can't help it. I sit on the floor before her and gesture "speak"

Persephone take a deep breath, looks about the room and sighs  
"Did you father tell you about your birth?" she asks.

"what was there to tell?"

"When you were born…" she trails of, trying to find the words. She looks at me again but this time there is no cold in her eyes, no searching- she looks at me like I am a marvel. She looks at me like my crew did the first time I worked magic across the bay- like I am a miracle. Like I shouldn't be real.I need her to keep talking because there is something here. An answer to a question I didn't even know how to ask.

"Semele you were so weak." she continues as last, words laboured and heavy as she presses on "Your father and I are both creatures of pure magic, it was foolish of us to think that we could create something, create someone in a place where magic didn't exist. When you were born you started fading away almost immediately. I could feel it. And there was nothing I could do" her voice is choked with tears, and despite not wanting to show this woman that I care my heart breaks when I try to speak

"You could have stayed" I say. And I know there is no point to try and sound tough. Not when a goddess I spent all my life hating is sitting before me and all but sobbing as she tells me the story of me.

"I couldn't watch you die. It would have killed me" she shakes her head with a violent motion.

"But I didn't die" I press on.

"Because he gave you his magic. All of it." she buries her head in her hands now. Unwilling to look me in the eye "Every last shred of it. He gave it all to you and I helped him do that, knowing that he was giving up him immortality for you"

Alecto's words come screaming back at me then. Her red eyes looking at me the same way my mother does- like I am a thing that shouldn't be- as she describes my magic to me. Not half of each of my parents but _'like smoke, like rivers of fire under the earth's crust, like blood, like moonflowers, like ending and stories and tricks"_

"I don't" my voice sounds distant and small as I try to piece together what my mother says. What the fury said except she didn't know she said it. The fury smelt my magic as an identical replica of my father...because it was my father's.

"Your magic is not your own Semele, you are not half underworld goddess and half fertility goddess, you are a whole underworld goddess, you were born to die and inherited the power of death itself" my mother says, I thinks she is crouching by the bars now, close to me as I fall forward and support myself with my hands. I am shaking. This is like when I found the locket all over again. This is loss of control. This is everything my father has ever warned me about when emotions get too much.

"I don't understand, how did you even know how to do this? On the isle of all places" I stammer.

"My mother" Persephone answers "She gifted my with the ritual to help your father save you"

Persephone moves to the cell and opens the door. She walks in. she is with me now, in my cell, unmoving and untouching. And I can't move for the paralyzing fear and shame running through me. Breathing becomes too much.

"And demanded that you leave and go with her in return" I manage to choke out through the tears. It all makes sense now. Everything. Demeter won- she won everything by allowing her daughter to same a stillborn goddess… or close enough to a stillborn. And all my mother had to do was leave the isle. When I think about it now I want to laugh. It's almost too easy of a choice to make.

"I am so sorry Semele, it should've been me" she whispers as she crouches beside me. She reaches to touch my hair, to comfort me, but I can't have that.

"You're damn right it should have been! He is dead and it's-" I slap her hand before she can touch me. I want to scream and her, to tell her it's her fault. But that would be a lie. ''It's my fault"

She doesn't let me beat her away this time as she pulls me in for an embrace. I want to fight her. To be free of her. But even in this magic-less room she still smells like wildflowers and spring and I want to hold on to the comfort that this scent brings and never let go. I hold on to my mother as she caresses my hair. Like I always dreamed she would despite my father's hatred of her.

"He loved you. He loved you so much from the first moment that he saw you" she says into my hair as she tightens her grip on my shaking form. "We both did"

"You should have let me die, the both of you"

I hear her chuckle softly at that. A humourless sound, almost a sob.  
"That is the one thing a parent cannot do" she says. And lift my head to look into her blue eyes."And he would be so proud of you right now, and the woman you have become"

I break again into tears at that. We spend another moment in a tight embrace at the flood of a prison cell. Maybe this is torture after all because I feel I am being torn apart by the knowledge of what my magic is and then put together again by my mother- as she lets me cry years of pain. It's almost funny. She is practically a stranger.

After moment of that she takes out a small remote- a single button in a device that shimmers like mother of pearl in the fluorescent light. She presses it, and I feel like I can breath again as magic fills the room and me. She seems less queasy as well as she stands up and helps me to my feet.

"Are you letting me go?" I ask, still not believing it, even after she held me as I cried for my dead father, her dead husband.

"You seem surprised" she laughs and now I find her laugh infectious. I smile as I get to my feet.

"I used to think you hated us" I say, winching at the pain that still inhabits every one of my movements.

"Hades was the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I will never forgive myself for leaving him. For not explaining." she admits. She walks out of the cell now, finding my belt of daggers on a nearby shelf and handing it to me as I follow "I was a coward. But if I can help you, this is almost enough".

I struggle with the buckles through the pain and without another word, she pulls me closer and places both her hands of my face. Tear stains and covered in bruises and ash I must look so different than her. But she doesn't look at me, simply closes her eyes.

I feel it then. Her magic. The one Alecto spoke about- all spring sun and blue skies, flowers, fresh water from melted ice, new things and waking things and so much life flows from her hands as she works her magic.  
"What are you doing"

"I am doing what I do best. I am healing" she says, and sure enough I feel the pain leave my body with every breath. My bruises clean right off, my magical energy renewed as it was when I stepped out them damned box, minus the aching muscles. I feel… I feel fresh. Like I just took a warm shower.

My mother opens her eyes and smiles at me with a mischief I recognize from myself. From my crew. My crew. Oh shit!

"You should go" she says, as if reading the panic in my eyes.

"But what about the cell?" I ask

"By the time they come back here to check neither of us will be here" she says. She closes the door, turns on the barrier once more and it flashes to work with a gold spark of un-magic. Even on this side it's sickening.  
"now go give them hell, Semele, daughter of the underworld and she who destroys"

"What-"

"I used to be called Kore before i knew your father, little girl" she says with that wicked smile "After I knew him they called me Persephone- meaning Destroyer. Seems like it runs in the family"

I return that wicked smile as I turn to the door, magic and raw power singing in my bones with every step. Just before I leave though, I turn to her. There is still too much here, and healing me and letting me have a good cry on her shoulder does not undo all that I feel, or don't feel, for this goddess.

"This does not mean I forgive you" I say "for all of it"

"I get that" she nods.

"But it does mean I am willing to talk. If we survive" I assure her. If I survive this, there will be a lot of explaining to do. On all sides.

"So make sure that you do"


End file.
